Harry Potter and the Next Overlord
by JLawrence Kenny
Summary: After Harry blows up part of Little Whinging, he is collected by a band of Minions and taken back to the Netherworld, where he learns that he is to become the next Overlord. And will he Dominate or Destroy those who stand in his path? DarkHarry and Harem
1. Evil Always Finds A Way

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, blah blah blah, J.K Rowling has no idea what romance is, blah, blah, I don't really care about this part, so just start reading already!

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**Chapter 1: Evil Always Finds A Way**

Harry could already tell this summer was going to be horrible.

How did he know? Well, for starters, he hadn't even reached the second week of his vacation and he was currently pinned against an alley wall by his cousin Dudley's goons, about to be pummeled into oblivion. He was, quite literally, stuck between a rock and a hard place, and as such he was rather scared. However, he wasn't particularly frightened of these bullies; he had enough power to send them running for the hills if he so wanted, because Harry Potter was a wizard.

Piers, the bully currently holding Harry up, had long lost his skinny frame since joining Dudley's boxing team and was now a lean, mean, beating machine, though one could still see that he had once been as skinny as Harry was now by his long face and nose. "Well, well, Potter," Piers sneered, "Dudley happened to mention the other day that you were leaving for good this summer, so the boys and I figured we'd give you a going-away present." The other boys behind Piers, whose names Harry had never bothered to learn, sniggered at the lame joke.

"That was so nice of you, Piers. What'd you get me? Obviously, it couldn't be any courage, since none of you have any." Harry responded. Piers growled and pushed Harry harder against the wall, whose only reaction was to sigh in exasperation. You might be wondering why, if Harry was a wizard, he didn't simply magic his way out of the situation? It was a rather simple reason: Harry was still underage in the wizarding world and therefore could not use magic without getting in trouble. While he was sure that as the savior of the Wizarding world the Ministry of Magic would be lenient in his punishment (if they gave him any), but they would be sure to want a statement from Harry in support of the idiotic actions of Scrimgeour and Umbridge. Such was Harry's predicament: either save himself from these bullies and owe the Ministry an undeserved favor, or let the bullies beat him up and deny the Ministry any opportunities to use him.

Harry thought the latter option sounded much better in the long-term, but he also really didn't feel like getting beat up. As the bullies moved in closer to Harry, he started to grow angry at the whole predicament. It was ridiculous that he couldn't even defend himself despite being a month away from his 17th birthday and emancipation. The injustice of it all began to fill Harry's mind, blocking out the insults and threats the bullies kept directing at him. Had they bothered to pay closer attention to the boy in their grasp, Piers and his friends would have noticed a black haze beginning to form around his body.

It wasn't until the wall behind Harry cracked loudly that the others noticed anything out of the ordinary about the boy they were about to beat up. Aside from the black aura surrounding his body, the normally skinny boy seemed to grow a foot taller as well as significantly broader, and his once green eyes now glowed red with a malicious energy. Piers and his gang suddenly realized they had someplace else to be… anywhere but here. Before they could move more than a few steps toward the exit of the alleyway, Harry's anger literally exploded. A blast of pure magical energy erupted from his frame as he let out an anguished scream. The bullies and half the building in front of Harry were completely disintegrated.

Harry stood with his hands on his knees, panting heavily as he slowly calmed down. When he looked up, he seemed completely baffled at the scene of destruction that lay before him. How could he have done that? He knew one thing for sure though; he had to leave before anyone from the Ministry of Magic popped in to investigate.

Unfortunately, the adrenaline coursing through Harry's system was only enough to sustain him for three steps before magical exhaustion mercilessly stopped Harry in his tracks, who unceremoniously fell to the ground. _Well, this sucks._ That was the last thing Harry thought before slipping into a coma from the exhaustion. The last thing he saw was a creature that resembled a house-elf picking through the wreckage left by Harry's outburst, and the creature's raspy question of "Mastah?" being the last thing he heard…

After Harry fell asleep, the elf-like creature crept closer to the sleeping wizard, clearly afraid of another explosion like the last one. It carried a club, and was dressed in only a loincloth and ragged shirt. Sensing no immediate danger, it stood and yelled "All clear!" over its back, revealing more elf-like creatures just like the first one who quickly rushed to the fallen wizard, barking a rough chorus of "Mastah, mastah!" as they examined him. One more of these creatures approached at a much more leisurely pace; he was very old, if the hunched back, white hairs, and numerous scars were anything to go by, as well as the fact that when he spoke, it was in coherent sentences.

"Hmm, what have we here?" the old creature asked, mostly to himself since the others were busy picking up bits of rubble and attempting to either wear them as hats or knock each other with them. The old creature lifted one of Harry's arms then let it fall to the ground, disgusted. "A rather skinny frame with no real muscle of which to speak, but that can be easily remedied. Much more impressive was the blast of magic we just witnessed. Perhaps, just perhaps… either way, it is for the tower to make the final decision. Minions! Take the boy back to the Netherworld!"

The Minions, for that was what they were called, quickly obliged with a chorus of "Yes, Gnarl!" and picked up the unconscious boy with their scaly hands, carrying him to a giant gate that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the park nearby. Gnarl turned away from the Minions, again musing to himself. "Yes indeed, someone with a magical core as powerful as that could definitely be a suitable candidate for Overlordship. After all, Evil always finds a way."

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Well, I guess I'll go with the typical "IF YOU READ IT, LEAVE ME A REVIEW!" ending to my chapter. Also, to all readers who actually know about the Overlord game, I'm thinking of adding a 5th minion Hive. Any ideas for colors and powers would be greatly appreciated. Until next time!


	2. Discovery

Well, here's the second chapter everyone. Thanks for all the reviews I've gotten from you, I definitely didn't expect such a great response. Also, Cypher3au pointed out to me that my reasoning behind Harry's aversion to using magic last chapter was a little off. Being an avid Harry Potter fan, this shames me to no end, and I have fixed it, so if you have the time (or no life like me), feel free to go over the minor changes in the last chapter. Without further ado, here's chapter two! (That rhyme was totally not planned, by the way)

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**Chapter 2 - Discovery**

Hermione Granger had always been an early waker, as she had felt that any time spent doing anything other than studying was time wasted. Granted, much of her morning study time had been devoted to keeping certain friends of hers – namely, Harry Potter – alive, but her morning routine remained the same.

Therefore she was not surprised to find herself alone in the kitchen after she woke up early one morning in her parent's house. Stretching and stifling a yawn, she looked at the clock on the wall: 4:45 AM. A little early even for her, she merely shrugged the inconvenience off and padded her way over to the cupboard, where she retrieved a box of cereal, a bowl, and a spoon, as well as some milk from the icebox. Hermione had tried (several times) to surprise her parents and cook breakfast for the whole family, but that had resulted in several embarrassing and unnecessary visits from the fire brigade; she had eventually given it up as a lost cause and resorted to food that would not accidentally burn the whole house down.

As she sat down at the table, she surveyed the two papers on the table before her. Aside from deciding which book to read later, the most difficult decision of Hermione's day was usually just choosing which paper to read first: Magical or Muggle. Settling on the Muggle newspaper first, she poured herself her first bowl of cereal cornflakes and then picked up the paper and began reading. On the very front page of _The Times of London_, there was a very large picture with the title _Six Possibly Dead in Terrorist Bombing._ Hermione felt a sharp twist of fear in her gut as she saw the article; half of the block had been completely vaporized while the other half was basically untouched. Such precise destruction, she knew, could only be a result of a very specific terrorist: the most feared Dark wizard of their time, Lord Voldemort.

Hermione didn't know what was worse, the possible deaths of six people, or the fact that it barely affected her emotionally.

Shaking her head to clear it of unnecessary thoughts, Hermione kept reading the article. Basically it read that a bomb had exploded in a town near London, supposedly killing six local teenagers. The reason it was only supposed was because no remains had been found and six teenagers had never arrived at their homes the previous night. The paper theorized that the teens may have been so close to the explosion that their bodies had been completely vaporized by the blast, but it was also possible that they had been kidnapped. To Hermione, it sounded like a shaky theory at best, which further hinted at magical involvement; the Ministry was horrible at covering up Voldemort's attacks on the Muggle population.

However, something besides the shoddy cover-up nagged at Hermione after she read the article. Something told her it had to do with Harry, but she couldn't quite figure it out. Thinking she must have overlooked some minor detail that her subconscious picked up, she decided to reread the article; however, she didn't get more than two sentences in before she saw two words that turned her blood to ice:

_Little Whinging._

Hermione wasn't the brightest witch at Hogwarts for nothing, but it also didn't take a genius to figure out that it was more than mere coincidence that an explosion that large would occur in a small suburban town that housed the most important wizard the entire magical world. Throwing the muggle newspaper aside, she unfurled _The Daily Prophet _hoping her worst fears were nothing more than fears rather than facts. The headline proved her otherwise.

_**THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED MISSING?**_

_Late last night, a magical explosion rocked the small town of Little Whinging. Utterly vaporizing half a block, the detonation could be felt as far as the Ministry of Magic in London, who immediately sent out a team of Aurors to investigate the disturbance. What they found was a scene of utter destruction; the magical discharge had completely wiped out part of the block and, upon further investigation, killed six Muggle teenagers that happened to be passing by._

_Of much more significance is the fact that this suburban town is home to The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, and that he has seemingly disappeared off the face of this Earth. Mr. Potter's guardian, Mr. Vernon Dursley, gave us this response when asked of the whereabouts of The-Boy-Who-Lived. _"I don't know where that freak nephew of mine has gone to, and I don't want your kind in my house at all. In fact, I'd just as soon never see his sorry face again."

_Also, in a disturbing turn of events, the Aurors investigating the scene announced that the magic used In the destruction of Little Whinging was unlike any they had ever seen before. Rather than a spell, the explosion seemed to have been merely that: a tremendous outpouring of pure magical energy. This writer has a few theories on this revelation. Perhaps the famous Boy-Who-Lived had been involved in an emotionally intense moment and, unable to legally cast magic, the energy from these emotions built up inside his body until they literally exploded outwards. The response of his guardian seems to support this theory, however, since neither the body nor the magical remains of Mr. Potter were found at the scene, this theory is implausible, since such a large blast would surely have left him unconscious and unable to move, and also does not account for the strange magical signature found at the scene._

_Continued on Page 4…_

"Harry…" she sobbed. Hermione thought quickly: while it was doubtful that she could find anything that the Aurors wouldn't have already found, she knew that, for the sake of her best friend, she had to at least visit the site. Ron also needed to be informed since he was still probably in the coma he called sleep. Her mind decided, Hermione quickly took a pen and paper from a nearby drawer to inform her parents of the situation, then quietly stepped outside their flat and Apparated to The Burrow, home of her other best friend, Ron Weasley, and his family.

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Meanwhile, deep in the Netherworld, Gnarl and his minions stood watch over the comatose form of Harry Potter. The minions pushed and shoved each other aside, trying to get a better look at the young wizard that lay on the bed in the Private Quarters. Gnarl, of course, showed a bit more restraint than his younger companions, but felt obliged to punt one of the rowdier minions out into the hall when he became slightly too rambunctious.

Gnarl made a mental note to make him clean out the Burrows for a month, then turned back to the boy. The Netherworld's choice of a new evil Overlord puzzled him quite a bit. _From everything I've read, _thought Gnarl, _this boy is the complete antithesis of Evil in every way. Not to mention he is a _bit_ younger than most recruits we find… _However, the Netherworld gate had sent them to that small town, and he was the only magical creature around. The explosion of magical energy only helped the minions locate their possible new master much more quickly than normal; it nearly singed their ears off even though they were almost two blocks away. Furthermore, even though the boy himself positively _reeked_ of light magic, the blast of energy that led to his discovery had been remarkably… angry. While "angry" was a far step from Evil (with a capital E), it showed that the boy definitely had the potential to become the next Overlord.

At the moment, though, he most closely resembled a bump on a log; the explosion of energy had exhausted him physically and mentally, and he had been asleep for more than 12 hours. Gnarl did not expect his condition to change overmuch for a while, and so he turned to leave the Private Chambers, ducking to avoid a vase thrown by the obnoxious Minion from earlier. "SNOTRAG! Throw one more thing and I'll throw you into the river of souls! Good luck convincing Mortis to fish you out."

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Wwll, there's your update people! Constructive criticism is always welcome, and I have two requests for you this evening: 1. Do you like the chapter lengths? or Would you prefer them slightly longer? Keep in mind this may affect the update time negatively. and 2. I have need of a Beta Reader, preferably someone with plenty of experience in both stories. Thanks again for reading!


	3. Early Morning Visit

Hello, my dear readers. Sorry for the lack of updates; I've actually had this chapter finished for a week, but my internet router blew up so I had to get a new one. Anyway, the general consensus seems to be in agreement for short chapters with more updates, so I'll just keep writing as usual. So, without further ado, here's chapter 3. (That one didn't rhyme, unfortunately.)

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Harry Potter and the Next Overlord**

Chapter 3

Early Morning Visit

Hermione sat sobbing in the living room of the Weasley's home. After her Apparition to the home of her second best friend, Ron Weasley, the two of them had immediately Apparated to the site of the magical explosion in Little Whinging. While Ron had rushed straight toward the massive crater, Hermione hesitated for a minute. Though she had taken the initiative in getting Ron and herself to the neighbourhood, once there she found herself having second thoughts: if she found something that might prove of Harry's demise, she wasn't sure that she would be able to hold it together. And even if she didn't, that only left the certainty that Harry had been kidnapped, whether by Voldemort or someone else, it couldn't be good. Luckily, she had been startled out of her reverie by multiple pops signifying Apparition, and found herself looking at the rest of the Weasley family (all still dressed in their nightclothes).

All had offered their support to her, and that alone was almost enough to send her off into a crying fit, but she managed to pull herself together and strode forward through a small park and toward the gaping hole in the alley. Along the way, however, she noticed something off about a certain rock in the park; it was quite large, midnight black, and surrounded by four other rocks of the same colour and texture. She would have investigated further, but the Weasleys had brought her attention back to the task at hand. She figured she was just trying to find a way to distract herself from the difficult task ahead, but even after the group had determined that Harry was, in fact, still alive, and had returned to the Burrow, those rocks still nagged at her in the back of her mind. _There was definitely something off about those rocks, _thought Hermione, barely even noticing as Ron entered the room and sat down next to her, also in a miserable mood.

"What're we going to do, Hermione?" Ron asked quietly.

"I don't know…" Her reply was just as quiet, but she was hardly paying attention. Thinking about those rocks, attempting to figure out the mystery behind them helped keep her sorrow at bay. The colour was too perfect to be naturally occurring, and the layout of them made them seem as though they were actually placed there for a reason. _One thing is for sure, though. I need to get a closer look at them. _However, Hermione wasn't sure whether she would be able to visit the site once again, and she needed emotional support, and as nice as Ron was, he wasn't exactly the most emotional person in the world, and wouldn't help much when she was attempting to figure out the significance of the rocks. However, she knew just the person she could count on, and she happened to live nearby.

"Ron? Could you ask your Dad to Floo-call Luna's house? I need to talk to her." In response to his questioning look, Hermione merely said, "Girl-talk."

Predictably, Ron dropped the subject and went to find Mr. Weasley. As Hermione waited, she thought about Luna Lovegood. Certainly, her outlook on life was… different to say the least, and she had eccentric beliefs that often confused Hermione, but she was a Ravenclaw for a reason. She was certainly one of the brightest witches of their age. And who knows, maybe her strange way of thinking could shed some light on the situation by forcing Hermione to look at it from a different angle.

Ron walked back in. "Mr. Lovegood said that it's fine for you to come over." After this, Ron fell back into one of the chairs dejectedly, and for a moment Hermione wondered if perhaps she should stay and give him some company. But she had already asked to go over to Luna's, so it would've been rude to stay, so she settled for giving Ron a hug as she left the room. As she popped into the Lovegood's kitchen, she took in her surroundings, her natural curiosity overcoming her despair. As she expected, their home reflected the bizarre mindset of the young girl who lived there – every counter, table, and cabinet seemed filled with odd things that Hermione had only read about, and that had no real use of which she could think. Hermione figured that this implied that Luna's father was just as dotty as she was, so when he entered the room wearing a shirt covered in feathers, she was not overly surprised.

Luna's father took Hermione's hand into his, saying "My name is Xenophilius Lovegood, Luna's father, of course. She's upstairs, second doorway on your left." Hermione shook his hand warmly, thinking perhaps that he actually was a sane man (perhaps the shirt had been a gift of Luna's?) and that she had been hasty in passing judgment, until she opened the door and he said, "Do keep an eye out for the Baltoors on your way up, they'll do horrible things to your digestive tract." Hermione climbed the stairs, and then entered Luna's room, who greeted Hermione in her usual, dreamy fashion.

"Oh, hello Hermione, do come sit down." Hermione took the spot on the bed Luna had indicated. She may have been a peculiar person, but Luna's presence was contagious; for the first time in several hours, Hermione was finally able to relax thanks to Luna's dreamy demeanour. Luna sat across from Hermione and stared at her, waiting for Hermione to begin talking; so Hermione went into detail about her hectic morning. And when Hermione went into detail, she really went into detail – she didn't finish her story for almost 2 hours, concluding with her hypothesis on Harry's survival. Luna, typically, remained emotionless during Hermione's story. While Hermione was grateful to her for allowing her to get all her emotions out (she had even broke down sobbing into Luna's arms when she told her about when she found Harry's magical presence at the explosion site), she was still worried that Luna had not had any reaction regarding the news.

At the end of Hermione's narrative, Luna blinked. "Well, Hermione, I would have to agree with your theory. I think Harry is still alive, since You-Know-Who would want to make sure the wizarding world knew about it immediately. Kidnapping seems most likely, since such a powerful explosion would have left Harry unconscious. Is there any chance we could return to the site now before the magical residue dissipates? Maybe I can help shed some light on the situation myself."

"That was actually why I came here," replied Hermione. I know I'm not exactly thinking clearly, so I wanted your help."

At this, Luna gave a light smile. "I'm glad you think so highly of my opinion, Hermione. We should get going, then."

Hermione nodded, then stood to leave, but was stopped when Luna grabbed her arm. Hermione looked at Luna, confused, but then noticed that Luna's own eyes were suddenly filled with concern. "H-Harry, _is _ going to be alright, isn't he?" enquired Luna. Hermione almost starting crying again after hearing the worry in Luna's voice.

"Yes, Luna. He'll be fine. He's Harry. Now let's go find him."

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Well, there's your update, ladies and gentlemen of internet land. Personally, I feel the chapter feels a bit rushed (I'm just as eager as you to get back to Harry), but I also kinda think that matches Hermione's state of mind at the moment. As always, read and review, if not I'll track your IP address and send you viruses. O:)

Next time, Harry wakes up and Luna clues Hermione in.


	4. Confusion

I'm sorry, everyone, for the insanely long update time. I recently entered college, and that has been eating up all my free time, but I finally found enough time and inspiration to finish off another chapter in my story... Even though it's mostly filler... Again. Still, it's better than nothing, and hopefully the creative juices will still be flowing by the time fall break rolls around this weekend and I can get another chapter or two out for you all. I think I may have gone a little overboard with the bad jokes this time, but we'll see how you like it! Chapter 4!

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**Confusion**

As Harry regained consciousness, the first think he noticed was pain. Aching pain all over his body. While this was troubling – pain was, after all, not a pleasurable experience – it did give Harry a certain measure of reassurance. Dead people didn't feel pain, after all; that particular torture was reserved for those still among the living.

Satisfied he was alive, Harry also wanted to make sure that he was more than just a head. He took a breath, and his chest hurt like hell as a result. _At least I still have a torso, _thought Harry. Next he tried moving his right thumb. Yup, pain there too. Same with his left. Harry continued this painful inventory of his body until he was convinced he was completely whole. In pain, certainly, but he was still in one piece.

However, this also brought up the question of where exactly Harry was. He felt soft cushioning under his body, which he thought was surprising considering he had been in an alleyway before... whatever happened, had happened. It was also quite wark, as if he was sleeping near a fireplace, although quite a bit hotter. Actually, a more appropriate simile would be that it felt as if he were sleeping near a furnace. He tried opening his eyes, but closed them immediately. The light attacked his neglected retinas, causing another spasm of pain to shoot through his body, and he moaned in agony.

After Harry's nerves settled down, he noticed a plethora of sounds that had previously ignored. Understandable, considering the pain he was in, but now he could distinctly hear the mutterings and scurrying of small creatures. Suddenly, Harry began to panic. What if he had been captured by Death Eaters and was now deep within the lair of Voldemort himself? If this was the case, he could honestly say he was screwed. With the mild adrenaline rush that resulted from this frightening revelation, Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position and forced himself to open his eyes, able to push the pain aside for the moment. What he saw was definitely not what he had expected.

Rather than a dungeon cell, Harry found himself inside a very ornate bedroom. It appeared to be carved straight out of stone and rather devoid of decoration, as well as crumbling away in certain parts; despite the state of disrepair, Harry could tell this room was originally quite beautiful. The only part of the room not carved straight from the rock was where he had been laying, a rather nice-looking bed, blood-red in colour, but also moth-eaten from neglect. Nothing could prepare Harry for what he saw when he looked down past the bed, though.

Standing no less than five feet away from him were a half a dozen of the strangest creatures he had ever seen. As they crowded towards Harry with the occasional utterance of "Mastah?" or "Oooh!" he thought that in the magical world, the closest comparison he could make was that they looked like the result of breeding between house-elves and goblins. They were about 3 feet tall, brown, and skinny. The majority of them wore nothing but ratty loincloths, but a few also had leather chestplates. Upon closer inspection, he noticed they all sported scars all over their bodies, or had parts missing – one of the creatures was missing an ear, another an eye, one was even missing an entire hand – so they were obviously not creatures of peace.

Needless to say, these tiny creatures freaked Harry out.

Before he could make any effort to escape from the ugly goblin/elf creatures, another one of them pushed through the crowd and neared Harry, who pushed himself further back onto the bed. He had to give up his escape attempt, however, when another flash of pain passed through his exhausted limbs.

"Calm yourself, Master, I am not here to hurt you. My name is Gnarl, minion master and devoted servant of darkness." The creature, Gnarl, bowed his head slightly in Harry's direction, who took the opportunity to look it over more carefully. Like the other creatures, Gnarl looked like the love child of a goblin and a house-elf who had had one too many Butterbeers at a party. Unlike them, however, this creature was gray, and significantly older, if the excessive wrinkles and white hair was anything to go by. He was fully clothed and was holding on to some sort of staff with a lantern on the end.

Harry was still unable to really move, but he was still unsure of the creature's intentions. This gray thing had called him "Master," but he also said he was a devoted servant of darkness. If Harry knew anything, it was that anything related to evil and darkness usually wanted him dead. Not to mention that, while the creatures were creepy, they didn't strike him as particularly dark. Therefore, he was understandably confused. "You seem a bit short to be evil." The brown creatures behind the gray one laughed raucously at Harry's jibe.

The "Gnarl," or whatever it was, took the insult in stride however, and continued onward. "True, Master, I may not look very evil, but trust me when I say I come from advising a long line of Evil people, most of them you have probably heard of. We minions have always been at the side of the most Evil of evildoers through the course of history, to whom we refer as the Overlords!"

Of course, this sent another rush of fear through Harry. Obviously, if these "minions" or whatever they were served Evil and evildoers, that must mean they worked for Voldemort! He was the only evil person Harry knew of, and you didn't get much more evil than Voldemort. "So, what then? Are you just holding me until Voldemort can come here and finish me off himself?"

The gray minion narrowed its eyes at Harry, as if he was missing something very obvious. Luckily for Harry, Gnarl decided to point the obvious in an obvious manner. "I should have thought it clear already, Master. The new Overlord we serve, our new Master...

Is you."

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Meanwhile, Luna and Hermione had just Apparated to Little Whinging and were now in the process of examining the obsidian-like stone that stood for no apparent reason in the corner of the small playground near the explosion.

So far, they hadn't gotten anything out of it.

After she discerned that the rock was indeed of magical origin, Hermione had tried every spell she knew on the rock to force it to reveal its secrets. But no matter what she did, the stone refused to yield. She had even resorted to Muggle methods at one point, (In other words, kicked it really hard) but still the rock defied her. Luna wasn't being much of a help either. For the most part she just sat on a nearby fence, occasionally shouting encouragement when Hermione had a tantrum and beat the rock with her hands, but other than that, she sipped on a Butterbeer and watched Hermione's antics.

After thirty minutes of spells, enchantments, kicks, and the sporadic swear word, Luna slid off the fence and walked up to the sweaty, panting Hermione. "I'm sorry, Hermione, it seems as though the rock doesn't like you very much. Maybe if you asked it nicely, it'll do something?"

Hermione scoffed at the idea. "Really, Luna? You think that asking a rock to tell me what happened to Harry will work? Alright, fine then, I'll try it." Hermione stomped up to the impertinent rock, then shouted, "HEY! MR. ROCK! SORRY TO BOTHER YOU, BUT I WAS WONDERING PERHAPS IF YOU COULD TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED YESTERDAY?"

The stone remained silent.

"That was a very good effort," commented Luna. "But I really don't think that'll work. It is a rock, after all, not a living organism." Still in her dreamy voice, she added, "You should be able to tell when I'm being facetious or not, Hermione, we've only known each other for two years. Besides, I think your outburst has scarred those children," pointing to a couple of young boys fleeing in terror from the screaming brunette.

Hermione's right eye began twitching uncontrollably, and Luna patted her on the back. "Perhaps we should call it a day, Hermione? I doubt the interrogation of your rock will yield any more evidence for now." Hermione hung her head, sighed, then nodded in resignation. The two of them stood up, Luna dusting off her nightclothes, and made their way back to the designated Apparition spot. Just before they twisted back to Luna's house, Luna glanced back to make sure the pyramid-like artefact was still in place near the rock, and then they were gone.

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Well, there it is folks. I think this chapter is a little longer than the last, but still short. Anyway, as always, reviews are appreciated. I also would love to hear any Omakes you guys can come up with. If they're good, I'll add them on. It's win-win, anyway, you get a little literary credit, and my word count goes up. Butterbeers all around!


	5. Harry's Decision

Hello, dear readers. Finally, an update! I was participating in National Novel Writing Month, which is why there were no updates, and may I say it was a critical success! I only wrote 3000 words, but I still consider it a success because it finally got me back into writing that dang story, albeit a little bit at a time. This would've been done a lot earlier except for finals week, and then holiday shopping, the usual stuff people complain about this time of year. But, you didn't come here to hear about my lamentation, you came to read fanfiction, so without further ado, I present Chapter 5 of "Harry Potter and the Next Overlord." (Longest one yet)

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Chapter 5

Harry's Decision

Harry stared at the elderly minion in disbelief. "You... You do realize who I am, right?"

Gnarl nodded his head. "Of course, Master. You are Harry Potter, otherwise known as The-Boy-Who-Lived or The Chosen One. Your new moniker, however, will be the Overlord."

Harry shook his head in disbelief. "If you know who I am, then you must know about my history. My entire life was ruined because of Lord Voldemort, arguably the most evil wizard of our day. What makes you think I would even be interested in being evil myself when evil destroyed everything I ever had?"

"Pah! You think that pansy Voldemort is Evil?" scoffed Gnarl. "Please, he is nothing more than a disease-infested flea hitching a ride on the rotting corpse of a dog. The evil that men do is nothing compared to the Evil that we do."

Harry shook his head again. It was hard to believe that this minion could dismiss Voldemort's powers so easily when he hardly measured up to Harry's waist. "Could you at least tell me where we are?" Harry wanted to get as far away from this place as possible, as soon as possible.

"We are currently located in the Netherworld, Sire. More specifically, we are in your Private Chambers. You'll have to excuse the mess, we haven't had an Overlord in quite some time, and the Minions here can be quite violent." When Harry didn't say anything, – he thought Netherworld meant Hell, and was freaking out a little more – Gnarl continued. "Now then, My Lord, we should get you geared up and out into the field. There are certain things that must be done before the Netherworld will truly acknowledge you as its master and the heir to the title of Overlord."

Gnarl turned around and began yelling at the other Minions, while Harry sat with his head in his hands, trying to figure out how to get out of this predicament. While he was certainly stronger than these creatures, they outnumbered him ten to one and would quickly subdue him if he tried to make a break for it. Even if he did somehow manage to get past them all, he had no idea where he was or how to get back to little Whinging. _For now, _he thought, _I suppose I'll just have to go along with their plans and hope they don't have a change of heart and decide to kill me._ Looking up, he heard Gnarl yell from nearby to follow him, and – rather reluctantly – Harry stood up and followed his voice through a room which looked like a lounge area and down a flight of stairs. When he reached the bottom, he froze, staring at the immense room in amazement.

In response to Harry's dazed look, Gnarl announced, "This, Sire, is your Throne Room. It's a little on the cavernous side at the moment, but now that you're here, we can begin to refurbish and expand our tunnel system so that you can expand your Dark Domain." Gnarl made his way over to a large throne that seemed crudely cut from the surrounding stone and was decorated rather blandly with a few red rugs. Despite its simplicity, Harry swore he could almost feel power radiating from the throne; whether the power was its own or merely the remnants of one of its previous inhabitants "This is your throne, Sire, and it's not just a place to rest your evil posterior. You can teleport around your domain from here, and it will also alert you of any recent events or quests occurring in your lands. Unfortunately, until the Netherworld accepts you as its Master, I believe you would find sitting in it to be... shall we say, unpleasant."

Harry merely nodded, trying to take in as much of the scenery as possible. Looking at the vast chamber, Harry had to at least admit one thing, if nothing else; Evil had style. As with the bedroom in which he had woken up, he could tell that this place obviously held a sense of grandeur even under its semi-ruined state. Tiny streams of lava flew through cracks in the stone and behind the throne flowed more lava, obviously meant to intimidate any visitors. The floor in front of the throne was mostly overtaken by a giant circle cut into the ground, over which hung a menacing clawed protrusion of rock, and around the circle were cut runes that glowed a pale blue aura. Following Gnarl to the far side of the chamber, they walked through a large archway and out of the Throne Room.

Again, Harry was astounded.

They appeared to be in what seemed like a giant underground cavern. Giant obsidian boulders floated past him, ranging from the size of the diminutive Minions in front of him to the size of houses. Lava flowed in rivers down the sides of the walls and collected at the bottom of the cavern. Harry noted that it was a long way to the bottom and resolved to stay as far away from the edge of the precipice as possible. "As you can see, the natural laws are a little bit flexible here in the Netherworld," said Gnarl.

"This is amazing, Gnarl," replied Harry. "How does everything float?"

"Put simply, magic, but we have no time, Master." One of the rocks floated down next to where they stood, and waited. "Step onto the rock, Sire. It's probably safe, I mean, perfectly safe." He flashed Harry a grin filled with pointy teeth. Needless to say, Harry was less than convinced of the safety of stepping onto the rock. It was flat on top, but it was small enough that he felt sure that his weight would destabilize it. After a moment, in which Harry continued to stare at the rock, weighing his options, Gnarl decided to give the lad a helping hand – specifically, by pushing him onto the rock. Before Harry could recover, the rock began moving by itself, rushing up towards the roof of the cave. _Calm down, Harry, you're not gonna die. You may barf, but you will not die._

Thankfully, the boulder soon stopped and Harry scrambled off of it as quickly as his limbs could muster, then collapsed on his back once he was completely on solid ground.

"Greetings, Sire. Welcome to Foundations." The head of yet another Minion, covered in a helmet, entered Harry's field of vision, along with that of Gnarl. "This is Giblet," said Gnarl. "He's a particularly robust Minion, Sire. Been around almost as long as I have."

"He doesn't look nearly as old as you do." Giblet cackled evilly, running down a short flight of stairs as Harry stood up. Gnarl sniffed at Harry's insult, and replied as if he had said nothing. "As Giblet mentioned, these are the foundations. In here, you will find numerous ways to upgrade your horde and yourself." Harry followed Gnarl down the flight of stairs and to the left, where he could see Giblet busy at work sifting through large pieces of metal. "This is the Armoury, Sire," said Gnarl. "Giblet has been busy reworking your armour so that it does not have any dents or holes in it anymore. Our last Master met a rather gruesome end, unfortunately, but Giblet should have fixed it by now. Right, Giblet?" Giblet crowed affirmatively; Harry was too busy trying not to contemplate how the last Overlord might have died to really notice, though. "Good," replied Gnarl.

He turned back to Harry, and ran a disapproving eye up and down him. "Now, Master, you happen to be significantly smaller than most of our Overlords. Luckily, this armour is enchanted to fit its wearer perfectly, but I highly doubt that the sight of a short Overlord is likely to inspire fear in the eyes of your subjects, regardless of the menacing aura. We'll have to do something about that soon, but I suppose it can't be helped for now."

Harry had to agree with Gnarl about his physique, but still felt the need to defend himself. "It's not my fault that I was malnourished by the Dursleys for 10 years of my life. You try living off table scraps that long and see how good you look." Memories of his treatment at the hand of the Dursleys entered Harry's mind, but he pushed those memories and the dark feelings he felt away and refocused on the ancient Minion in front of him.

"Oh quite, quite, Master. I understand perfectly. Now, then." Giblet walked toward the duo, holding a piece of armour. To Harry, it looked like some kind of gauntlet, consisting of a metal glove and a solid metal plate to cover his left forearm, but the most interesting aspect of the gauntlet was a round protrusion that sat in the middle of the metal plate. "This is by far the most important part of your evil persona, M'Lord. This gauntlet will allow you to control the Minions in a more sophisticated way than merely shouting at them. It will transfer your thoughts into commands that will then be broadcast to your Minion horde, who will then do as you say. Now let's put it on you."

At this, however, Harry managed to find his voice. "Look, I'm sure you mean well, Gnarl, but this just is not going to work. I'm not evil! It's just not possible."

Gnarl shook his head exasperatedly. He could see that the boy in front of him was quite set in his Good ways, and it would take some serious work to craft him into the Overlord that the Minions needed. Part of him did sincerely doubt that Harry Potter could or would ever become Evil, but he always stood by his mantra: Evil always finds a way. And Evil had brought him to the 17-year old wizard who now stood in front of him, firmly denying Evil. _This will require some serious planning, _thought the old Minion. For now, however, he knew that he needed to at least get the boy to play along until he could be convinced of his Evil-ness. Evil was more than brute strength, after all. Deception was also necessary to be properly Evil. "Very well, Master. If you truly believe that you are not Evil, we will not keep you here."

Harry sighed in relief at the aged Minion's response. "However," he continued "I would like you to at least consider using our services. Deny it as much as you like, the Netherworld has selected you as a possible candidate for Overlordship, and as such, we Minions are bound to your will, regardless of whether you use us for Good or Evil." Gnarl smiled craftily. "You may yet find a use for us in your fight against that upstart Voldemort."

Harry surveyed Gnarl with suspicion. The offer sounded too good to be true from an Evil creature, but it was tempting. He still had no clue as to how he would be able to defeat Voldemort; these creatures could be powerful allies to him, and he could use all the help he could get, regardless of the source. The aged Minion looked on as Harry pondered the dilemma in his mind, as Giblet stood nearby with his ears flat against his head, still holding the Overlord gauntlet.

At last, Harry reached a decision. He knelt down in front of the two Minions, took a deep breath, and said "Armour is bound to attract a lot of attention. I don't know how long it has been since you've gone through the world, but it won't be easy to go anywhere if I stick out like a sore thumb." He then stuck his left arm out to Giblet.

Gnarl grinned in satisfaction as Giblet happily began attaching the gauntlet to Harry's left arm. "I assure you, M'Lord, we are well aware of the changes that take place in the world. For the moment, however, you will be travelling to an area mostly uninhabited by men. We can worry about wardrobe issues later." As the gauntlet clicked into place, the circle began to glow a dusky yellow, and Harry felt a surge of power course through his body. Even he could not help but crack a smile as he considered using this newfound power to use against his dark foe, as he allowed Giblet to begin placing the rest of the armour on his body. "Master, Evilness truly suits you. Let us go forth! There are nefarious deeds to be done." Giblet placed the last piece of armour, a helmet, on Harry's head. "I can feel the land quaking in fear already."

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There you have it, Chapter 5. Hope it was enjoyable for you all. I swear that next chapter will have action in it, but I'm still trying to figure out exactly where on Earth Gnarl is going to send Harry. I've been thinking about the Forbidden Forest outside of Hogwarts, where the first town Harry conquers will be the centaurs, but that is not until much later. We have corrupting to do before such a thing happens. *evil grin*

Also, I'd like to thank everyone for your submissions about a 5th Minion hive, and I have finally reached a decision: A black Minion hive. The powers of these Minions vary based on the corruption factor of the Overlord in control of them. For the Dominating Overlord, these Minions will attempt to possess an enemy and use them to attack their allies. For the Overlord who prefers a little Destruction, these Minions will attempt to possess an enemy, but will instead destroy them from the inside out, turning them into a makeshift explosive. Which brings me to my next question: Should these black Minions be given mounts? If so, what should they be? Same question goes for the Blue Minions as well.

Thanks for reading, and I look forward to your replies!


	6. Action in the Forest

Grettings dear readers. Blah blah, insert disclaimer, blah blah, sorry about the wait. Again, my word count rises! Anyway, the results are in and I've made my decisions about the Minion mounts. They are as follows: Browns - Wolves, Reds - (baby) Dragons, Greens - Acromantulas (or is the plural Acromantuli?), Blues - Snakes (possible Basilisk babies), and Blacks - either panthers or crows. For those of you who were wondering, Harry is wearing the Overlord armour from the original Overlord: Raising Hell game, since it is more generic, in my opinion, than the armour from the second game. There's a link on my profile to a picture for those of you too lazy to look it up, since I didn't feel like spending an entire paragraph on describing the armour. Thanks for all the awesome reviews, and make sure you read the A/N at the bottom too. Chapter 6!

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**Harry Potter and the Next Overlord**

Action in the Forest

All was peaceful in the small glen. A pair of birds flew amongst the trees, revelling in the sparse sunlight that managed to sneak past the thick tree branches. A beetle the size of a person's head buzzed along, then stopped abruptly as it found itself entangled in a spider's web. It struggled valiantly to escape as the owner of the web in question, a spider easily the size of any normal human, came along, sinking its fangs into its prey. The beetle quickly ceased moving as the venom took effect, and the giant spider began wrapping its meal up.

It was around this time that all hell broke loose. Quite literally, in fact.

Without any warning, an explosion ripped through the small clearing, tossing aside giant trees that had stood for thousands of years as if they were nothing more than saplings. A giant stone pillar rose from the earth at the origin of the explosion, swiftly growing into a claw-like structure that stuck out of the ground menacingly. The base of the structure projected a blue aura, casting the obsidian formation in an eerie glow.

For a moment, everything was unnaturally quiet in the forest, before a low grumbling came from the belly of the earth. The blue aura glowed even more intensely, send arcs of energy spitting everywhere, while the grumbling continued to get louder. All at once, the lights and sounds faded, and a dark figure stepped out from the portal.

Actually, stumbled out would be a more accurate description. Harry cursed at himself as he regained his balance. Though Gnarl had assured him that his armour was enchanted to increase Harry's strength so that the armour would not incapacitate him, he had still not anticipated the challenges the cumbersome armour would create in his flexibility and overall ability to move. "Remind me to smack that old Minion when I get back," he muttered.

"Now, really, is that how you would treat your most devoted servant, Master?"

Harry looked around in surprise. He could've sworn he had just heard Gnarl speaking, but the ancient creature was nowhere in sight. "Gnarl?" he called out. "Where are you?"

And again Gnarl spoke, as plainly as if he had been standing right next to the young wizard. "The jester, perhaps, Master, but hitting me would serve no purpose."

Harry spun around, nearly losing his balance again in the process, but was still unable to locate the source of the voice. "Gnarl, this isn't funny, tell me where you are."

"Still in the Netherworld, of course. I daren't go out into the world these days; I'm not sure my constitution could bear the sickeningly sweet sounds and smells of nature. Bleargh!"

"How the bloody hell is it that you are talking to me, then?"

"Through your helmet, Sire. There's a direct magical feed that allows me to see and hear everything you do right from the comfort of the hellish pits of the Netherworld."

Harry grunted. "Great for you, Gnarl. Now would you mind telling me what I need to do to get out of this wretched armour?"

"Of course, M'Lord. If you would be so kind as to look to your left, we can get started." Harry obliged, and saw four miniatures of the portal on which he stood. Three of them seemed pure black, but the one closest to Harry glowed a tan colour. "These are called Minion Gates. As you can see, of the four gates, only one is active. Focus your will on it, and call forth your Minions to do your bidding." With a grain of scepticism, Harry did as he was told, pointing his left arm at the hole in the ground, and concentrated on summoning some of the Minions he had seen earlier. To his surprise, a group of ten Minions popped out of the Minion Gate with little cries of happiness, who all immediately ran to Harry. "Ah, look at those keen little Evil faces. Ready to loot and pillage at your command. Currently, you can only summon Brown Minions; you must find the other lost Minion tribes before you can summon them as well. Now, let us continue."

Not knowing how to progress, Harry took a look around the small clearing, noticing the damage his entrance had caused. _Oops, _he thought sheepishly.

"Fret not, Master. As I said, we are far from civilization, though you may recognize where we are since you've ventured here before. More than once, if memory serves."

Confused, Harry looked past the nearby destruction and into the surrounding forest. Beyond the small patch of light caused by the Netherworld Gate's appearance, the forest was nearly pitch-black. Mist swirled around the trunks of trees that were twice as wide as Harry was tall. Harry was still clueless until he saw a giant spider scurry through the undergrowth and away from the disturbance that was Harry. In a flash, Harry knew.

"We're in the Forbidden Forest."

"Right you are, Master. Now, the reason we are here is to find the Red Minion Hive. With this artefact in your possession, you will be able to control, as the name implies, Red Minions. Devilish little blighters, they are, and necessary to power up the forge. Our sources indicate that they have set up camp somewhere in this area."

"Got it, Gnarl." Harry noticed a small path that wound through the vast trees. He moved as if to follow it, but found himself stumbling over the downed branches again. The Minions chuckled at his misstep, as Gnarl spoke to him.

"Hm. Perhaps you had best get more comfortable in your armour before we head out, Master. Draw your weapon and practice on some of those trees. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself when the time comes, hm?"

Harry's temper flared at the snide comment. If it was so easy, then why didn't Gnarl come out here himself? His blood hot from something other than the suit of armour, Harry forcefully drew his weapon from his side, a long sword with a silver guard in the shape of a Minion's head and a ruby imbedded in the pommel; glowing red runes adorned the blade itself. According to Gnarl, unfortunately, he would be unable to use his wand while wearing his Overlord armour. Besides his complaint that "brandishing a twig at your enemies wouldn't threaten a fairy," it seemed that a different type of magic was harnessed as Overlord. To be frank, it had all gone quite over Harry's head, but he took the old Minion at his word for now.

Harry had been given a choice back in the Netherworld between an axe, a mace, and the sword he held in his hand now. He looked at the sword in appreciation; besides the fact that he doubted he would've been able to raise, let alone use, the other heavier weapons, the sword reminded him of a similar one he had wielded five years previously. If he could slay a basilisk with the sword of Godric Gryffindor, then he was sure that he would be able to wield the sword of the Overlord with similar success.

Doing his best to ignore the bloody past of the weapon, as well as of the armour he wore, Harry moved forward, slowly at first, then with more certainty as he became accustomed to his extra height and weight, with the Minions following obediently in his wake. Walking up to one of the enormous trees, he struck at the tree, using it as target practice. With every blow he landed, the Minions egged him on. His form was hardly passable, but he only planned on using it if his Minions failed to stop anyone. Harry gouged out sizable chunks of the bark every time one of his strikes landed. Finally, he took one last mighty slice at the trunk before he left...

And watched in amazement as the blade cleaved the tree in half. The Minions cheered as the behemoth fell to the ground, and Harry stared at his hand. The power almost seemed too much to be real. "Well done, Master!" Gnarl said. "However, we seem to have a problem" Harry sighed as he surveyed the tree, which had fallen right in the way of the path out of the small glen he was in. "Our way is blocked! But we have strength in numbers. Sweep all your Minions into that tree, and they will work together to clear it from the path."

Harry absentmindedly wondered why he didn't just walk around the tree, but figured that he should just do what Gnarl told him to. Raising his arm, he silently commanded the Minions to move the tree from the path, and then they all proceeded to trudge down the path together. "Now," Gnarl said, "we need to keep an eye out for any evidence of the Red Minions."

"Like what?" asked Harry.

"Well, considering the fact that the Red Minions have a rather fiery personality, I'd say any part of this dank forest that is or was on fire recently would be a good place to start." Gnarl chuckled evilly, but Harry found himself distracted by a noise he heard just off of the path.

"Quiet, Gnarl!" Harry reached for his wand, cursing when he realized it was still in the Netherworld. _At least I still have this big-ass sword, _he thought. Suddenly, an acromantula leapt into the path, stopping Harry and the Minions short. The giant arachnid stared at the group, saliva and venom glistening on its mandibles in the moonlight.

The Minions quickly moved in front of their Overlord to protect him from the threat, as Gnarl spoke to Harry. "An acromantula, sire! I suppose I don't need to tell you how ferocious they can be. Still, it would be unwise to engage it in close combat. Command your Minions to attack that overgrown bug!"

"But what happens if one of the Minions gets bitten? They'll die, won't they?" Harry asked desperately.

"Have no fear, your Minions will gladly die for you. They're very loyal," Gnarl said. "Better that an expendable Minion be sent to the grave than you, M'Lord."

Harry ground his teeth in frustration as he commanded his Minions to attack the acromantula. With savage battle-cries, they charged the hideous spider, attacking it with their clubs. However, the spider, which was bigger even than Harry, would not go down without a fight, and it thrashed at the Minions, knocking two aside with one of its legs, attempting to bite another. The combined force of the Minions was proving to be overwhelming, however, as the spider sustained more injuries as time went on, though it showed no signs of giving up any time soon. Harry watched helplessly as one of the Minions managed to climb onto the acromantula's back, hitting its head with the club it held, but was subsequently caught by the spider, biting the Minion and injecting its deadly poison into the Minion's body. As it gave a final twitch and died, the acromantula hurled the dead creature away as it continued fighting the remaining Minions.

As Harry stared at the dead Minion, he felt rage growing inside him. Even as the Overlord, he was unable to protect anyone; though he had only known the Minion for a short while, the fact that he was unable to save it burned inside Harry as fiercely as had the deaths of Sirius and Dumbledore. He was still hiding behind others to do what he should. _No more,_ Harry thought viciously. He gave the Minions the command to retreat to him, which they did immediately. The acromantula, emboldened by its kill, followed quickly in their wake, which was exactly what Harry had been hoping for. Ignoring Gnarl's protests, Harry allowed his rage to bubble forth as he did back in Little Whinging, and then pointed at the charging acromantula.

Streams of lightning burst forth from his outstretched hand, slamming into the spider and driving it, screaming, to the ground. He let the energy flow for a few seconds, then allowed it to dissipate. Somehow, the spider was still alive, twitching feebly on the ground in front of Harry. His anger not yet sated, Harry walked slowly up to the now pitiful predator, raised his sword, and drove it into the spider, which finally died.

The Minions all cheered as their foe expired, along with Gnarl. "Well done, Master. I never would've guessed you would be able to harness the Evil energy like that." When Harry did not respond, but instead walked over to the dead Minion, Gnarl added, "Sire, you must realize that people and Minions die during times like these. Death is an inevitable part of war." It felt strange to Gnarl having to explain to this boy things he and the Minions grew up knowing, but he knew it was necessary to start converting him into the Overlord.

Harry responded sadly, "That doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

Gnarl grunted noncommittally, and then brought Harry's attention back to the corpse. "See those glowing orbs, Sire? That is Lifeforce. Gather them, and they'll collect in the Netherworld, allowing you to summon more Minions from the gates. Remember that Lifeforce equal Minions, so the more you gather, the more Minions you can control." Harry walked up to the corpse of the spider and reached out. The three white orbs were absorbed into the glowing circle on his left gauntlet.

Suddenly, Harry heard more noise coming from the path in front of him. _More acromantulas? _He thought desperately. He settled into a battle stance and drew his Minions close again, noticing that the noise sounded more like the pounding of hooves rather than the scuttle of hairy legs, just as a centaur came pounding out of the mist, stopping in front of Harry and the corpse of the acromantula. Harry was visibly worried (or at least would be if his face was visible). The last time he entered the forest, after all, the centaurs had threatened to kill him, so if there was more than one, he could be in serious trouble.

"Stop, evil creatures," the centaur said. With a start, Harry recognized him as Bane, whom he had encountered during his first trip into the Forbidden Forest. "I know why you have come here. You and your little imps coming seeking the fire-starters." Bane shuffled his feet uncomfortably, as if what he was saying pained him.

"Bah," spat Gnarl. "Bloody centaurs. I absolutely despise those stargazing nincompoops. Staring at the skies at night, insisting that they can read the future. As if fate ever stopped an Overlord from taking power. Nonsense."

Harry decided the best action would be to continue listening, so that he did not reveal his identity, nor antagonize the irritable centaur further. The last thing he wanted was to have to deal with an angry centaur herd. "Though we normally do not allow outsiders on our land, our leader has decreed that you be allowed to retrieve the creatures you desire. If you follow this path, you will eventually find their lair. Know this, however," Bane said with a glint of steel in his eye. "After you secure your friends, you will leave this forest at once and never return, or you shall face the wrath of the centaurs. And I doubt you shall find us as easily slain as that spider you so noisily disposed of. Good-bye, and may we never meet again."

With that declaration, Bane turned around and galloped into the mist and left Harry and his Minions alone once again.

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So there you have chapter six, and finally some damn action! I hope you all enjoyed it, because it took me forever to get past a couple parts. I have no questions for you this chapter, but I do still have a request. Coming up soon, I'll be publishing another fanfiction which will be a Harry Potter / Kingdom Hearts crossover, (I like doing crossovers, could you tell?) and it'd be pretty awesome if all you guys read that one too! Okay, and I lied about the question, but it has to do with the other fanfic, but I really don't care whether I lied or not, just answer the question. ^_^

What should my new crossover be called. Right now the working title is Wizarding Hearts, but if you have other ideas, feel free to let me know what you think would be a kick-ass title for a kick-ass crossover. You guys R&R (read and review) while I get some R&R (rest and relaxation). Peace out!


	7. Of Gnomes and Weddings

To my faithful readers, I apologize profusely for the insanely long break between this and last chapter. What was initially a bout of writer's block turned into college insanity, preventing me from updating for nigh on 4 months! It shan't happen again, at least not until next year, and I plan to make up for lost time over the summer. Anyway, I'm sure you are eager to get to the story, so read on!

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**Chapter 7 - Of Gnomes and Weddings**

Harry stared at the point in the mist where Bane had vanished. _Is this how people will see me from now on? _He thought. _As nothing but an evil creature?_

"Not to interrupt your reverie, Master," Gnarl grumbled, "But we really should get going. Forget about that pony and concentrate on the task at hand." Harry shook his head to clear the cobwebs from his mind, and then noticed with morbid amusement that one of his Minions had placed the head of the dead Acromantula on its own head. "Your Minions will automatically take anything useful, or not so useful, they find on the field and use it as weapons and armour, making your horde stronger. I remember when I was a Minion out on the field, ah, the things I put on my head."

Harry nodded, then turned back to the path just in time to notice a small creature stumble across the path. "Ah, gnomes, sire!" Unlike the gnomes he had encountered at the Burrow, these gnomes more resembled the story-like vision, with a scraggly beard, tiny clothes, and even a pointy hat. It was so small, though, that Harry was sure that it was no bigger than his own booted foot.

"The gnomes have had a blood feud with the Overlord for centuries, sire. You must eliminate them like they deserve!"

Harry was appalled by Gnarl's suggestion. "Eliminate them? Gnarl, those gnomes couldn't possibly be any threat to me. Even a gnome twice that size could only give me a small bite on the finger." He watched the gnome hop up and down in excitement while the Minions eyed it hungrily.

"Don't be deceived, Master, they're more vicious than they look and too smart for their own good. Not to mention they breed faster than bugs, and are significantly less cuddly. What I wouldn't give for a can of Gnome-B-Gone." Harry sighed exasperatedly as the gnome started running down the path. "Quickly, follow it! You'll change your mind soon enough."

"Highly doubtful, Gnarl," but Harry ran after the gnome anyway, seeing as he was headed that direction in the first place. Before long, Harry found himself in a small clearing where the fog had dissipated to the point where it was possible to see for quite a distance. Here, Harry saw the small gnome jump into an equally small hole, before popping its head out again to stare curiously at Harry. Harry chuckled, moving closer to the gnome hole as a couple more popped up with the first gnome to gaze at Harry.

"Be careful, Sire. Gnomes can be crafty."

"Nonsense, Gnarl." Harry squatted down to get a closer look at the gnomes in front of him. As he stared at them, and they stared at him, Harry could only think of how silly Gnarl was being. _These little beings couldn't possibly hurt me, even if they tried. _He reached down to pick up the gnome closest to him, intent on examining it more closely.

That was about the time that all hell broke loose – figuratively of course.

With a vicious growl, the three gnomes jumped faster than Harry could track, headbutting him with such force that he fell backwards. The gnomes jumped up and down on his dazed form, his ego hurt more than his body. Harry's minions swept the gnomes off of his body, allowing him to get back up just in time to see a veritable swarm of the miniature fiends make their way out of the hole.

"I did warn you, Master," Gnarl said. Harry could almost hear the smug look on his face. He wasn't worried, though; there may have been a lot of the gnomes, but he could tell that they were no threat to him and his Minions. They were a nuisance at worst, and Harry was really more than ready to walk by them and leave them be. That was, until Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that some of the gnomes were on fire. Before he could make sense of this, one of the flaming gnomes jumped onto Harry, clinging to his armour for dear life, seconds before the thing **exploded **on him, actually managing to hurt him, and causing him to fall on his back for the second time in as many minutes.

By now, Harry was rather frustrated with the entire predicament, which was just too silly to seem plausible. He was getting beaten up by a bunch of creatures no bigger than his own foot, and it had to stop. Harry commanded his Minions to intercept the horde of gnomes that was bouncing its way toward their Overlord, and they jumped to their task with eager cries of joy and malice. Grunting, Harry pushed himself back up to his feet, and watched as his Minions made quick work of the group of gnomes, yielding a rich harvest of brown Lifeforce that Harry's gauntlet absorbed. The Minions also looted the corpses, finding a rather large amount of gold on them, and even wearing their tiny hats as souvenirs of their battle.

"Ah, well done, Master!" Gnarl crooned in Harry's ear. "With this much Lifeforce, we should be able to start work on making your Dark Tower more presentable to a person of such esteemed Evil as yourself."

Harry bristled at Gnarl's words. "I told you before, Gnarl, I'm not Evil. Keep it up and you'll be without a Master soon enough." As he finished speaking, he coughed rather violently.

"It seems you took some damage during that last fight, Master." Gnarl seemed keen on ignoring Harry's last sentence. "Look around and see if there are any boxes nearby. Boxes tend to hold interesting things in them, like health potions, or weapons for your Minions. There's nothing Minions like more than breaking things. Apart from killing things, of course."

Noticing a conveniently placed pile of boxes in the corner of the clearing, Harry sent his Minions to open them, which they did – albeit more violently than Harry would've imagined. True to Gnarl's word, the boxes yielded a few swords that the stronger Minions happily exchanged for their clubs, and a red-coloured potion that was quickly brought to Harry. He downed the potion in a hurry, eager for his pain to be relieved. It reminded him of a pepper-up potion, but without the unpleasant side-effect of looking like your head was on fire. "Gnarl, why are there boxes out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"I don't know, Sire, I assume they were placed here by the natives. Regardless, it's back to the path! We need to find those Reds.

Meanwhile, the mood at the Burrow was rather solemn. Ron sat in the den, throwing a Quaffle up and down, unsure of what to do with himself, Mrs. Weasley was fretting over Harry's whereabouts while planning for the upcoming wedding, and Hermione was upstairs in Ginny's room, trying not to cry at the thought of what could be happening to her best friend. Sitting with her was Ginny, who seemed to be the calmest person in the house.

"It's going to be fine, Hermione. Harry has been through worse things before."

Hermione agreed with Ginny on the inside, but part of her could not help but worry about him. "I know, Ginny, but what if he's in over his head this time? He has this wonderful knack for getting in trouble, in case you hadn't noticed."

"And he gets out of trouble every time," Ginny said. "He's the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One. He's practically invincible."

Hermione glared at Ginny. "How can you be so careless, Ginny? You know better than anyone that Harry is just as prone to death as anyone else. For someone who dated Harry for more than a month, you don't seem all too phased by the fact that he might be in serious trouble!"

At this, Ginny had the decency to look flustered, but she pushed forward. "I just know that he's fine, Hermione. "

Hermione sighed. "You're right, Ginny, I know he's alright too. But he's been my best friend for six years now. I can't help but worry about him."

Ginny let out a dazzling smile. "You're absolutely right, Hermione. And when he gets back here, I plan to bring him into my room and show him just how grateful I am that he's alive."

Looking puzzled, Hermione asked, "But didn't he break up with you at Dumbledore's funeral?"

"He did, but that doesn't mean I can't try to snog him until he comes back to his senses." Ginny laughed lightheartedly as Hermione gave a half-hearted chuckle, trying to suppress the queer feeling that rose up within her – something that had been happening a lot for the last two months whenever Harry found his way into her thoughts. "C'mon, let's go back downstairs, I'm sure that Mum has more work for us to do."

Hermione groaned as Ginny giggled, running out the door of her room, and they plunged once more into the insanity of wedding preparations.

* * *

Well, my dear readers, there you have it. And once again, I have a request for you all. After a certain point in the story, I was debating making the fic almost interactive at certain points, allowing you to decide some of the more significant decisions Harry will end up making as he becomes more Evil. For example, whether he chooses to kill or enslave a leader, etc. I would of course have final decision, but it might be a fun exercise to attempt. Anyway, please review, I'm desperate for some love from my fans, and I'll see you next time.


	8. Fiery Friends

Greetings, readers. You're getting an update a little (lot) earlier than usual lately, mostly because my search for a summer job has been completely fruitless. Not cool. Anyway, Longest chapter yet, simply because there wasn't a really appropriate place to end it until after that many words. So I hope you enjoy the meaty chapter for a change. ^_^

* * *

**Fiery Friends**

"Master, wait!"

Harry skidded to a halt in front of a river that ran across the path. "What is it this time, Gnarl?"

"That river in front of you is much too deep for your Minions! Browns, Reds and Greens cannot swim. They are, however, remarkably good at drowning."

"You must be joking, Gnarl. You're telling me that these Minions can't pass through water that doesn't even come up to my waist?"

Gnarl harrumphed through the connection. "We Minions are not exactly the most advanced beings, Master. And these newborns even less so. Their brains primarily think of only three things: violence, treasure, and your Overlordship. Even you had to learn to swim, did you not?"

"Whatever, Gnarl. What about the Minions, though. I can't just leave them here."

"Oh, no need to worry about lost minions, they will automatically return to their Spawning Pit, no matter how far away it is. The exercise could do the louts some good." Harry rolled his eyes as Gnarl yelled at the Minions to make their way back to the portal from whence they had come, making his way forward through the shallow stream. "I do apologize for having to leave you on your own so soon, Sire, but drowning your army is quite the waste. If only we had Minions that could swim. Or float. Or… not drown quite so fast."

"I'll survive, Gnarl. It's not like I haven't been defending myself since I was a year old anyway."

"That's the spirit, Master!" Harry continued down the path, which seemed to only get darker the further he went forward. Despite his words to Gnarl, Harry felt a feeling of apprehension settle over him. With every step he took, the darkness seemed the crush down upon him even further. Every noise seemed to him the step of another enemy creeping up on him. Finally alone, Harry's situation seemed even more foolish than when he had agreed to it. He was Harry freakin' Potter. He was everything that evil – capitalized or otherwise – hated, and yet here he stood wearing armor that practically radiated disaster, using Minions that served Evil, and allowing the slaughter of dozens of seemingly innocent Gnomes. Certainly, they had attacked him first, but that could easily be attributed to the same reason that Bane had looked upon him with such disgust; he just seemed Evil.

And yet as he walked on, he knew – from experience now – that these Minions could help him defeat Voldemort. And that was more important than any personal struggle he might have with accepting such disgusting help. If it was true that the Minions were his servants and would do his bidding, perhaps it was possible for him to curb their evil ways, or at least prevent them from doing anything bad while he was around.

As Harry brought his attention back to the path, he found it obscured by a thick bramble of thorny vines. "You've got to be joking me," Harry growled with passion. He looked to the left and right, searching for a way to bypass the vicious plant, but the vegetation was much too thick. "I suppose it would be too much to ask you whether it's possible for me to hack or magic my way through this, Gnarl?"

"Of course you can cut through these vines, Master." Harry perked up, until Gnarl continued. "Unfortunately, I estimate that it would take you the better part of ten minutes to make your way through with your sword, and your current level of magic is of no use to us now."

Harry swung at the vines angrily. "This is so POINTLESS! If you'd let me bring along my wand, I could've just burned them away with an _Incendio _or cut them away with a _Diffindo._ Instead, I'm stuck here swinging a sword for ten minutes." He took a few more swings in silence. "What do you mean 'at my current level of magic,' Gnarl?"

"Along your travels, Sire, you are certain to come across certain artefacts that will expand your magical powers in a much more significant way than that puny stick you were waving around up until now." Gnarl retched. "Ugh, and with a Phoenix feather core? Those flaming chickens don't even have the decency to die when they should."

"Stay on topic, Gnarl."

"Er, right, Sire. Incidentally, you should never try to roast a Phoenix. It only encourages them." Harry swung down heavily, carving a particularly thick vine straight in half. "Anyway, these artefacts, which we Minions call Spell Stones, will grant you new, more exciting powers. Spell Catalysts are also a useful artefact, which will allow you to increase the power of these new spells. Who knows how many are out there waiting for you to discover!"

"What about my old collection of spells? You may not think them as valuable as these spells you keep talking about, but they still have a great number of uses."

"Well, I believe that when you discover how to use these new spells, you may find a way to learn to perform your old ones without the aid of that measly stick." As Gnarl finished speaking, Harry finished carving a narrow path through the thorny vines. He paused to wipe his brow before pushing triumphantly through the overgrowth…

Only to find another bramble of vines, even thicker than the last, blocking the path ten feet ahead of him.

Harry blinked stupidly at the plant in front of him, before ripping his helmet off and throwing it to the ground in frustration. He rushed forward to the vines with a yell, hacking wildly at the plant in a futile attempt to make it disappear. Already exhausted, though, he fell backwards after only a moment of his fury, panting heavily. Judging by the last thicket, he imagined that this one would take almost an hour to cut through.

After a moment, Harry retrieved his helmet from the ground beside him and placed it on his head. "Feeling any better after your little session, Sire?" Harry thought he sounded smug, but he was so exhausted that he didn't care much.

"Zip it, Gnarl. Just tell me if there is another way to get through these damned vines without hacking at them for an hour."

"If we only had the Red Minions available to us right now, then they would be able to make short work of those loathsome plants. Reds are fiery little blighters. Always handy if you need something roasted or burned to the ground." Gnarl contemplated for a moment while Harry struggled to catch his breath. "We're actually rather far into the forest at this point, and I can't imagine that the Reds would be much further. Try giving them a call and see if they answer."

Trusting Gnarl's council for a change – he hadn't been led wrong yet – Harry raised his left arm, and called out to his Minions. The sound of a horn echoed through his mind as he made his way to his feet again, and he called out once more, the horn even louder this time. His breathing slowed as he waited impatiently for something to happen. "What exactly can these Red Minions do?"

"As I said before, Reds are fiery little blighters. They have the ability to conjure and throw fireballs at their enemies, as well as obstacles such as these annoying vines in front of you. Do enough damage at once, and they can even set their enemies aflame! They can also absorb fire to help clear a path for you when one may not otherwise exist. Once we get them, we'll also be able to fire up the forge and get you some custom fit armour and weaponry."

Harry was certainly glad to hear that. He hoped they'd be able to at least create a set of armour that he didn't fall over whenever he moved. Just as Harry was about to give up and call the Minions once again, he noticed that the ever present mist seemed to be growing blacker and the air smelled smoky. The thorns in front of him suddenly glowed red before bursting into flames and burning away, parting to reveal a group of semi-familiar figures. Gnarl sighed in relief. "Finally, the Red Minions."

As they joyously ran to their new Master, Harry took a quick look at them. They were almost identical in appearance to the Brown Minions, however, their skin was red instead of tan, and they sported a small pair of curled horns atop their heads, giving them a devilish appearance. Harry was relieved to see them, since it meant that he would no longer have to make it through the Forest alone. However, the Forest's rather large trees were now burning down, and he really didn't feel like dodging falling branches through the rest of the path. Remembering Gnarl's words, he pointed to the burning trees and commanded the Red Minions to absorb the fire. They quickly snapped to work, and Harry watched amazed as the fire was sucked into their bodies, and almost immediately the fires were no more. "Handy," he muttered.

The Minions then ran back to him, babbling incoherently and pushing him further along the path. "I think they want to take you to the Red Minion Hive, Master," Gnarl said. "Though it sounds like there might be something else there as well."

"No kidding." Harry followed the Minions to a small cave that split from the main path. It was ridiculously hot inside, but he found himself able to see very clearly as a bright red light source was located in the middle of the small cave. It was very oddly shaped, somewhat resembling what a beehive would look like if it were built upward from the ground, and was constantly on fire.

"That's our Red Hive, Sire! Command your Minions to pick it up, and I'll send a Minion digger out to provide you with a portal back here to the Netherworld."

Harry did so, and about half his Minions picked up the Hive, slowly walking it out of the cave. "And what is that there?" Harry gestured to an object that looked like an ancient wheel carved with ancient runes.

"Unbelievable! The Red Minions have found you a Spell Stone, Sire, and an ancient one at that. From what I can see, that looks like the old Fireball spell. I haven't seen him in over a millennium. Bring him and the hive back to the portal, it's just over the hill from where you are, and we can really start making the Netherworld fit for habitation and domination."

Itching with slight discomfort, Harry followed the two artefacts out of the swelteringly hot cave and into the slightly less hot Forest, moving ahead of the convoy as he walked up the hill. All-in-all, he supposed it had been a rather successful little outing for all involved. Except for the one Minion who had died, as well as the Gnomes. Right now, he was just looking forward to returning to the Netherworld, doffing his uncomfortable armour, and sleeping for the rest of the day.

However, as he neared the top of the hill, he heard voices from the other side. He gestured for the Minions to all freeze in place, then inched his way to the top of the hill, peeking over at the offending speakers. Two wizards were examining an obsidian-black structure that was peeking out of the ground; the Netherworld gate that Gnarl had just had built. They were too far away for Harry to tell who they were, but he wasn't too keep on finding out if they were confident enough to make their way this deep into the forest.

"Is there any way they can use that gate to get into the Netherworld, Gnarl?"

"Of course not, Master. But they're much too nosy for their own good. You need to take care of them somehow, so they don't go blabbing our secret around before we want you known to the world!"

Harry considered Gnarl's words. He was right that he could not afford to let anyone see such an obviously evil figure strolling around the Forbidden Forest; it would incite paranoia and fear among an already scared society, and possibly even draw Lord Voldemort's attention to himself.

_What do I do?_

* * *

Who are the mysterious wizards lurking just over the hill? How will Harry deal with them? And why did I feel it necessary to end on a cliffhanger?

I dunno. But I do know that you all should leave me some reviews if you want the answers a little sooner. ^_^ If you get bored waiting, feel free to check my page here or at Ficwad . com for some new stories, and - in the case of Ficwad's site - a couple of original fiction pieces. Also, if you enjoy the Legend of Zelda series (Ocarina of Time in particular) then you should go look up May7733 on this site. She's a great writer, and her story, The Thief's Revision, is shaping up to be a great DarkLink fic.

Until next time!


	9. Harry Has a Hissy

Evening readers. Sorry for the update time, I got caught up between ideas for my novel and the Beta Release of an MMO called Eden Eternal. Definitely worth your time to try out, IMHO. I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

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**Harry Has a Hissy**

Harry assessed the situation quickly, unsure of what to do. Two unknown wizards stood in front of his only exit from this cursed forest, preventing him from getting some much needed rest and relaxation. To make matters worse, he didn't know whether the wizards in question were Death Eaters, or Ministry officials, or even just regular civilians.

Then again… Harry looked down at himself, acutely aware of his attire. Whether the enemy was good guy or bad guy, his current appearance was highly unlikely to inspire rational thought. He knew that if he had been approached by someone wearing the outfit of the quintessential fairy-tale villain, he'd probably run screaming or attempt to hex it to bits. Therefore, he didn't need to plan for a situation in which violence was not involved.

"Master, if I may." Harry was interrupted by Gnarl's raspy voice. "With those two peons distracted, it would be very easy to have your Red Minions rain fiery death upon them from above. They do so love a good barbeque."

Harry was appalled at Gnarl's statement. "That's nauseating, Gnarl! These aren't some evil Acromantulas, or a bunch of Gnomes that were trying to kill me. These are a couple of flesh and blood people, who haven't even done anything yet."

"And what if they turn out to be some of the servant of that Lord Voldie-thingy that's so obsessed with destroying you, mm? I doubt they would be so lenient in trying to apprehend you."

"But we don't _know _yet, you gray old sack of flesh." The Minions cackled as Gnarl grumbled quietly about the good old days when Overlords listened to his advice without being uppity. Harry, meanwhile, continued to assess the situation, trying to figure out a way to quietly and quickly incapacitate the two figures that were now attempting to cast spells on the portal to the Netherworld. It was then that Harry noticed the two smaller rocks next to the large portal. "Minion Gates," Harry muttered. "Gnarl, I have a plan."

"By all means, Master."

"I'm going to summon a few Brown Minions from the Minion Gate to catch them by surprise. However, I want you to give them orders not to attack the wizards, but just keep them distracted so that I can sneak up from behind them and knock them unconscious. With any luck, they'll think they imagined it all."

"As you wish, Master." Harry nodded curtly, mostly to himself, before he snuck forward, hiding himself behind a tree. The two wizards, meanwhile, were now scratching their heads in confusion as they continued to be stumped by the black rock in front of them. Harry's face scrunched inside his helmet in concentration, and the gauntlet began to glow softly.

The wizards scrambled backwards as the portals in front of them suddenly burst out of the ground, regaining their full size. Another twitch of his arm, and a group of Brown Minions burst from their respective gate. The two wizards leveled their shaking wands toward the group of Minions, but didn't cast any spells. Likewise, the Minions stood in a line with their various weapons slightly raised, but otherwise still. A standoff had commenced. "_Perfect," _thought Harry. He slid out from behind his tree, padding his way down to where the wizards stood.

"Wh… What are you?" one of the wizards asked the group of Minions. The one out in front cackled merrily, motioning the two to come closer, as Harry crept closer by the second. Before they could do so, Harry grabbed their heads, smashing them together cartoon-style.

The Minions cheered as Harry let out a genuine laugh despite himself. "I've always wanted to do that since I saw it in one of Dudley's cartoons. Looks like it worked perfectly."

Harry mentally called to the Red Minions that were over the hill to bring the Hive and Spell Stone. They disappeared in a white haze as they were transported to the Netherworld."Well done, Master. I must admit, I had my doubts at first, but it seems like you're going to shape up to be a fine Overlord."

Harry frowned slightly, worried by the fact that Gnarl's statement didn't bug him as much as it had earlier, when a Minion suddenly gasped and shouted "Master!" while pointing behind him. The other Minions began jabbering incessantly as Harry turned just in time to see that one of the wizards had regained consciousness and stood back up. Harry took a threatening step toward the man, hoping to scare him off, but inadvertently tripped over a root in the process. His sword flew out of his grasp, leaving him defenseless as the man began his incantation. Harry threw his arm in front of his face, hoping beyond reason that the metal armor would protect him from the spell.

"Expul…!" Without warning the man's voice was silenced. Harry scrambled to retrieve his sword, turning swiftly to face his attacker. By the time he made it around, however, he noticed that the man was lying on the ground again. Harry sighed in relief, thinking the man was unconscious.

Then he noticed the expanding pool of blood, along with the wizard's cracked skull.

Harry tossed his sword to the side again, rushing to the fallen man's side, shoving aside a Minion in the process. Blood was gushing out of a hole in his head, and even before Harry looked for his nonexistent pulse, he knew it was too late. He rustled through the man's pockets in a hopeless effort to find some sort of potion or anything that could help revive the man, throwing out a spare wand, a Ministry employee badge and a sack of Galleons, which the Minions gleefully took, before he accepted that the man was beyond help.

Harry felt sorrow and rage build up inside of him as he stood slowly. He could hear Gnarl speaking to him, but he paid no attention to his ramblings. His Minions cowered in fear from the anger that they could feel rolling off his body as he walked over to the Netherworld Portal and stood in the middle. He hardly even felt the rush of power as he was being transported back to his Tower.

"Have you been listening to a word I've said, Master?" Gnarl's voice was suddenly much clearer than before, as the old Minion stood in front of Harry in the foyer of the Tower. "I was just mentioning that your Overlord powers and spells are different from the variety you've used before, based on intent rather than silly incantations and wand-waving… What are you doing, Sire?"

"I'm leaving." A growing pile of armor lay at Harry's feet as he unceremoniously removed it from his body. "I thought that this arrangement might have worked out, but I can't work with someone who has such little regard for other people's lives."

"This is preposterous! He was about to kill you! You can't just leave us here alone, Master."

"DON'T!" Harry bellowed, "call me your Master! We have nothing in common, you and I, and I don't know why I even considered accepting your help in the first place!" He breathed heavily. "Now send me back to Little Whinging." Gnarl didn't move. "NOW!"

"As you wish." Gnarl signaled the Minions to gather the armor that lay at Harry's feet, which they did, albeit in a very fearful fashion, reluctant to approach him. Gnarl turned around, facing the still-empty Overlord throne, and released a miserable sigh. "Just remember, that we shall always be here if you change your mind, Sire."

Magical energy began to engulf Harry's body. "Don't bet on it, Gnarl." For the third time that day, Harry was whisked away by the magical portal, only this time, he left the Minions behind.

Gnarl harrumphed, wondering just why the Netherworld had brought them to that pitiful boy in the first place. "Come along Minions. There is work to be done if we wish to find a suitable Overlord soon. And Reds, if you try to leave again, I'll string you up in the River of Souls and leave you there. I'm sure Mortis could use a little entertainment."

* * *

Luna Lovegood sat alone in her room, putting the finishing touches on a drawing when a device in the corner of her room began to shriek loudly. She glanced at the twirling, smoking device with a smile upon her face, then stood up and pulled on her shoes. She would simply have to wait to finish the drawing of Harry's new armor at a later date. Stepping outside of her room, she called up the long staircase. "Father, I'm going out to become Harry's new Mistress!"

A loud explosion greeted her, followed by her father's voice. "That's very good, sweetie. Just make sure you're back in time for dinner."

"I will, Daddy! Also, be careful with the Snorcack horn! We don't have time to find another one!"

"Will do, Princess!" he replied, even as a loud whistling began to fill the air. Satisfied, Luna turned and began walking down the stairs, eager to Apparate to Little Whinging to greet Harry. She only hoped he was as excited to see her as she was him.

* * *

Now, I'm going to head off a little bit of the hate right now. The reason Harry was so upset by the person's death, despite the fact that he was about to be blown to bits is because he simply isn't Evil enough yet. Rest assured, I have Plans that will change his views on that soon enough. It involves the wedding, but that's all I'm saying.

With that said, if you enjoy the Legend of Zelda series, (Ocarina of Time in particular) then you should go look up May7733 on this site. She's a great writer, and her story, The Thief's Revision, is shaping up to be a great DarkLink fic.

Review, and you will be loved. Fail to review, and I'll... withhold the next chapter! (My resources are limited in terms of torture, sorry)


	10. Return to Privet Drive

Apologies for the late update, folks, but I got sucked into an awesome new MMORPG called Eden Eternal. You should definitely go check it out if you are into MMOs, because it is truly phenomenal. Anyway, here is the next chapter.

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**Return to Privet Drive**

The maw of the Netherworld closed up behind Harry as he made his way back to Privet Drive, awash in a turmoil of emotions. As he looked back upon the events of the day, he felt disgust at himself, and wanted nothing more than to just forget that the day had ever occurred. But as much as he wanted to, the face of the dead Ministry employee kept forcing its way to the fore of his mind. A person that he had killed, albeit indirectly.

He shook his head violently. No, he hadn't killed that man. Those wretched Minions had done it, even after he specifically instructed them not to harm him. It was their fault, not his. Feeling slightly better, he turned around the corner to see quite a sight before him. Surrounded by a cordon of police tape, a giant crater had been carved out of a sizeable chunk of the block. Even more amazing, he recognized it as what had been the alleyway in which Piers and his gang had cornered him. How had he survived an explosion like that? More importantly, what had caused it?

"There you are!" Harry whirled around, drawing his wand and pointing it at the feminine voice that had just shouted. A woman with bushy brown hair greeted him, and he relaxed, recognizing his best friend. "We've been looking for you for ages, Harry, where've you been?"

"Hold it right there, Hermione." She stopped, staring at Harry curiously as he kept his wand leveled at her. "Which bottle did you tell me to drink at the end of our first year?"

"Harry, what're you talking about? You must've drunk plenty of bottles, what kind of question is that?"

"You're not Hermione," Harry whispered quietly.

He shot off a stunner towards the woman that stood across from him, but a shield suddenly appeared in front of her. The pleasant demeanour washed away from her face as she raised her wand to meet his. "Not as idiotic as you seem, eh, Potter? Very well then, if I must take you using force, I shall."

Suddenly, the air was thick with spells as the two began to duel. Harry blocked as many spells as he could, dodging those he could not, but he found himself almost completely on the defensive. His opponent was a madman – or madwoman he supposed – shooting off spells like machine-gun fire. He hardly ever had a moment to retaliate except for an odd Stunner or Disarming Hex that he could spare, but his opponent easily sidestepped his meager offence. Off-handedly, Harry had been hoping that his underage magic would be enough to warrant a visit from a Ministry official, but no one seemed to be coming; he was on his own.

Meanwhile, the Polyjuiced Death Eater laughed gleefully. "Is this the best that the famous Harry Potter has to offer? The Dark Lord holds you in such high regard."

The laughter sounded wrong emanating from the mouth of his best friend, and it irritated Harry. Narrowing his eyes, Harry growled and shouted "_Bombarda_!" The ground exploded in front of the Death Eater with such force that it kicked up a giant cloud of dust and rocky shrapnel. Harry was stunned at how powerful his spell was, certainly much more than it had been yesterday. Was it because of his foray into the Netherworld? The spell stone he had collected came to his mind, but the momentary distraction cost him, as a yellow spell hit him in the legs, causing him to fall over. A red spell quickly followed, and his wand was ripped out of his hand.

The person disguised as Hermione strolled out of the cloud, dusting off her robes and nonchalantly picking up Harry's discarded wand. "Such a pity, Potter. I expected more from you. However, I am curious as to how you realized I was not your precious little Mudblood friend."

"Because I knew Hermione would remember what bottle I drank when we were looking for the Sorcerer's Stone in first year."

The imposter sneered at Harry just as another voice called out, "It was the smallest one!"

Harry's captor whirled around, but took a spell straight to the chest and landed next to Harry with a heavy thump. A bushy brunette entered his vision for the second time that day as he pushed himself to his feet. "Boy, am I glad to see you Hermione." Noticing the person behind her, he added, "And you as well, Luna."

"Likewise, Harry," Luna replied in her dreamy voice.

Hermione, however, was not so quick to answer, wand leveled at Harry. "Back in our third year, who did we save from death and how?"

Harry sighed with relief. "Buckbeak and Sirius Black, and we used a Time-Turner to go back and save them." He scratched his head ashamedly, adding, "And I suppose you already answered my question, huh?" Hermione stared at Harry sternly, then strode up to him and punched him hard on the arm. "OW! What the bloody hell was that for?"

"What? You disappear for almost a whole day, leaving behind nothing but a giant crater, and youhave the audacity to ask me what that was for?" She punched him again. "It was for leaving me so damned worried, that's what!" She lunged out at him and Harry flinched, but found her wrapped around his chest rather than bruising his arm. "You could've been dead for all I knew!"

Suddenly, Hermione was crying into the chest of a very perplexed Harry. He looked at Luna, who gestured for him to wrap his arms around Hermione, so he returned the hug, noticing how light and snug in his arms she felt. "I'm sorry, Hermione. It's been a rather hectic day, that's for sure." He stood there for a minute, doing his best to comfort Hermione.

The moment was interrupted when Luna spoke. "I do so quite enjoy watching you two cuddle, but I do think that it would be in our best interest to leave before more bad guys arrive."

"Right," said Harry. He reluctantly parted with the much calmer Hermione, then regarded the unconscious imposter as he retrieved his wand. "What should we do with her?"

"Well, assuming she is a Death Eater, we can't just leave her here," mused Hermione.

Luna piped up at this point. "What if you tied her up and dropped her off at the Ministry, Hermione? I'm sure they'd keep her out of trouble for a small while at least."

Hermione nodded in agreement, muttering "_Incarcerous_." The imposter was tightly bound and Hermione gave a gentle wave good-bye to the pair. A stern look clearly told Harry that he was not allowed to move until she came back, and then she was gone with a loud crack.

Harry stared at the spot where Hermione had left, then turned to Luna. He felt slightly uncomfortable standing there in silence, but Luna seemed in high spirits as usual. "So… How has your summer been, Luna?"

"Oh, well enough, thank you very much for asking, Harry. My father and I recently acquired an infestation of Baltoors, which like to trip people walking up stairs, but fairly uneventful besides that." Harry nodded politely, but almost fell over when she continued with, "So how was your day in the Netherworld? It must be frightfully hot down there."

"N-Netherworld? Uh, I don't know what you are talking about, Luna," he stammered.

"Of course you do, Harry. There's nothing to be ashamed of, being the Overlord is a very important job."

Looking around in paranoia, Harry quickly whispered to Luna, "Look, I don't know what you do or do not know about those disgusting creatures, Luna, but I want nothing to do with them. They killed an innocent Ministry employee and show absolutely no remorse or regret for violence. They are the epitome of evil."

"Quite right you are, Harry. I personally find Minions to be rather cuddly, but to each his own, I suppose." A brief pause, and then Luna continued, "I am very disappointed to hear that you turned down the opportunity, Harry, but they say that Evil will always find a way." Harry scoffed. "If you do end up returning to your job, however, please know that I would be more than glad to become one of your Mistresses."

Harry's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "M-Mistress?"

Before he could pursue the discussion further, however, a loud crack signified the return of Hermione. "Come along, you two, we shouldn't stay very long. Who knows if there are any more of Voldemort's goons lurking about." She grabbed Harry's arm as well as Luna's and Harry found himself being sucked through the inner-tube of Apparition and hopefully away from his horrible day.

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Nothing much to say about this chapter from my end. You telling me stuff is always appreciated though. And you shall forever be my favorites if you do review. 3


	11. Preparations

Hello readers! This chapter will probably seem rather dull, as I'm trying to skip as much as possible to get back to the more exciting stuff, which will start in the next chapter. You'll also notice some excerpts taken straight out of the book, none of which i take credit for, and it's only a couple lines. And sorry again for the wait!

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**Preparations**

The next month at the Weasleys' house passed rather quickly. Upon his arrival, many joyous greetings were shared, including the patented Molly Weasley bear hug. After that, their lives consisted of almost nothing but wedding preparations. Rooms were cleaned multiple times, numerous cake samples were tasted, endless hours of shopping were done, and Fleur's parents had arrived not long before the wedding was to take place. The men of the house found themselves hard-pressed to keep up with the women's seemingly endless amounts of energy, but Harry found himself glad for the return to normalcy. His brief trip to the Netherworld seemed further and further away every day, and while the work was exhausting and seemed never-ending, it was a relief to be away from the misfortune that had always followed him.

And yet…

Harry knew that he was merely delaying the inevitable. He knew that he would soon have to leave and track down the remainder of Voldemort's Horcruxes, and that he was endangering everyone in the Burrow with his mere presence. But damned if he didn't feel like he deserved to be a little selfish for once, and enjoy what little time he had left as a normal teenager before he had to live up to his name as The Chosen One.

And so, it was with a light heart that he approached his 17th birthday. His night had been plagued with yet another vision of Voldemort's travels, and of a man named Gregorovitch, but his morning had been much more pleasurable. Finally able to use magic, Harry had sent Ron's possessions flying around the room with glee, before receiving his best friend's present. A book.

"A book, Ron?"

"Well, this isn't your average book, Harry. Fred and George have assured me that _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches _is absolute gold. Hell, I wish I would've had it last year to help me get rid of Lavender."

Harry looked skeptically at the book. The chapters all seemed to be things that were common-sense when it came to dealing with women, but Harry reasoned that not many people were prone to the usage of common-sense in every day scenarios. Least of all Ron. Nevertheless, he thanked Ron for his present, leaving it in the room as he walked downstairs to accept Birthday congratulations from everyone in the house. His presents were all wonderful, if not all practical for the quest he was about to undertake, but as Hermione and Ron took them upstairs to pack, a soft voice spoke from behind him.

"Harry, will you come here for a minute?"

* * *

Ron marched downstairs, through the still-crowded kitchen and into the yard, and Harry kept pace with him all the way, Hermione trotting along behind them looking scared.

Once he reached the seclusion of the freshly mow lawn, Ron rounded on Harry. "You ditched her! What're you doing now, messing her around?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron, of course I'm not messing her around," said Harry, as Hermione caught up with them.

"Ron—"

But Ron held up a hand to silence her.

"She was really cut up when you ended it—"

"So was I. You know why I stopped it, and it wasn't because I wanted to."

"Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she's just going to get her hopes up again—"

"I'm not the one who snogged her, she dragged me into her room and practically molested me!" Harry yelled. And this was true, as Harry had hardly done anything after Ginny had led her into his room.

"You didn't seem to mind all that much," growled Ron.

And this was also true. Even if Harry had not initiated the contact, he couldn't say he hadn't enjoyed it thoroughly. But he wasn't about to let the glowering Ron know that. "Look, I promise I won't let it happen again," said Harry harshly. "Okay?"

Ron seemed half resentful and half sheepish, but muttered a quiet, "Fine," before walking away, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the garden.

She looked at him sadly, asking, "Do you really love her?"

Harry was taken aback by her sudden question, as Hermione hardly asked him questions about his relationship with Ginny. He stared into her brown eyes for a moment, then turned away. "I honestly don't know, Hermione." He felt a number of conflicting emotions flow through him. "We only ever dated for a few short months, and before that I had only just recently had feelings for her. I don't even know where they came from sometimes, especially since we never really associated before then, unless you count the D.A." He threw his head back, staring up at the cloudless sky. "I suppose my life can never be easy, huh?"

Suddenly, he felt a pair of arms grasp around his stomach, as Hermione hugged him. "You know I'll always be here for you, right?"

"Of course I know, Hermione. You've always been here for me." He turned around, giving Hermione a brief, but tight, hug. She looked up at him, a spark of hope in her eye.

"I wanted to tell you something else, Harry."

Before she could finish her thought, however, they were interrupted by the appearance of Charlie Weasley, causing a massive outpouring of Weasleys to greet him. He and Hermione were separated in the rush, and he decided he would talk later with her about it.

The rest of the day was not nearly as interesting as the beginning had been, and after Mrs. Weasley forcibly chopped Charlie's long hair mostly off, they began preparing for Harry's Birthday dinner, which forced them all to eat outside as they had many more people than the Burrow's kitchen could possibly handle. The food was delicious as usual, but the real kicker came moments before the party started as Mr. Weasley arrived with the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. He had arrived to convey upon Harry, Ron, and Hermione the contents of Albus Dumbledore's will, including his Deluminator, a copy of a children's book, and the first Golden Snitch that Harry had ever caught. He left rather huffily afterwards, and the party recommenced.

As Harry lay awake in his bed after the day's events, unable to sleep. The wedding was the next day, a day that he should have looked forward to immensely. But all he felt was a dark sense of foreboding looming over the house. And that never meant good news.

Meanwhile, in the Netherworld, things were looking bleak. The Dark Tower had not yet seen fit to lead the Minions to a new possible Overlord, and even fighting amongst each other did nothing to raise their spirits.

Gnarl himself was frustrated with the Tower, and had taken to kicking the Throne when he became particularly angry with the Netherworld's incompliance. Though the Throne remained empty, the Tower still acted as if it had an Overlord at its helm. He sagged in hopelessness, hoping that something would happen soon. But first, he had to relieve all this anger somehow, looking for a Brown Minion to punt out into the lava. Depressed though they may have been, one thing was always certain:

Being Evil was fun.

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Being Evil is most definitely fun. And next chapter, something will happen to draw Harry back into the forces of darkness. What is it? I'm sure as hell not gonna tell you! But you're more than welcome to speculate in a review, which I love!


	12. The Wedding

Ah, my dear readers in internet land, here you have it. One of the big scenes I have been waiting for. I hope I've managed to truly capture the atmosphere of the event, but I'll not say any more so as not to spoil it. Read on, but be warned. Things aren't about to go down the way they did in the book. Also, part of this chapter is taken straight from the book, with a few slight alterations, so don't think I'm attempting to steal JK's writing and claiming them as my own, because I'm obviously not. Just a wannabe FF writer. ^_^

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**The Wedding**

And so the day of the wedding found Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting in the second row of seats awaiting the arrival of Fleur to begin the ceremony. The Weasleys had attempted to get Harry to drink Polyjuice Potion to disguise himself for the wedding, but Harry had staunchly refused. Though they reluctantly agreed, Harry managed to convince them that with the tremendous security that accompanied the wedding regardless of his disguise, there was very little chance that any attack would make it into the wedding, and if one did, they would probably know about his disguise anyway.

Unfortunately, Harry had again underestimated the extent of his fame, and found himself accosted from the moment people began arriving for the ceremony. Luna Lovegood, after once again dropping a not-so-subtle hint about becoming his Mistress, had introduced him to her father, who seemed just as spotty as she was, though Harry quite honestly found it rather amusing. Sometimes he wondered if they truly believed what they said they knew, or if they were merely having everyone on. Ron's Great-Aunt Muriel in particular had proven herself to be quite persistent in badgering him about every aspect of his life, to the point where he had almost considered jinxing her. Thankfully, Ron eventually led her to her seat, leaving Harry to finish seating the few remaining guests.

Hermione's arrival had also been a highlight of the day. She looked absolutely stunning in her dress, which Ron had been uncharacteristically quick to point out. (No doubt a tip from his idiotic book) Harry, for his part, was unable to say anything because he knew he would have started gaping like a moron if he opened his mouth. It was the Yule Ball all over again, as Harry had once noticed that his best friend was, in fact, a woman. The soft, feminine curves and the beautiful skin. As it was, Harry couldn't keep his eyes off of Hermione, something she had noticed, if her soft blush was anything to go by. Unfortunately, the arrival of Viktor Krum interrupted the moment, and after another quick conversation between the group, they had all settled into their chairs waiting for the bride to appear.

A moment later Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee, both wearing dress robes, with large white roses in their buttonholes; Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling from the veela cousins. Then the crowd fell silent as music swelled from what seemed to be the golden balloons.

"Ooooh!" said Hermione, swivelling around in her seat to look at the entrance.

A great collective sigh issued from the assembled witches and wizards as Monsieur Delacour and Fleur came walking up the aisle, Fleur gliding, Monsieur Delacour bouncing and beaming. Fleur was wearing a very simple white dresses and seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow. While her radiance usually dimmed everyone else by comparison, today it beautified everyone it fell upon. Ginny and Gabrielle, both wearing golden dresses, looked even prettier than usual, and once Fleur had reached him, Bill did not look as though he had ever met Fenrir Greyback.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said a slightly singsong voice, and with a slight shock, Harry saw the same small, tufty-haired wizard who had presided at Dumbledore's funeral, now standing in front of Bill and Fleur. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls… "

"Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely," said Auntie Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. "But I must say, Ginevra's dress is far too low cut."

Ginny glanced around, grinning, winked at Harry, then quickly faced the front again. Harry expected his mind to wander a long way from the marquee, back to afternoons spent alone with Ginny in lonely parts of the school grounds. But for some reason, his thoughts seemed inexorably drawn to the brunette witch beside him, placing her in Ginny's place in his memories. He shook his head quickly, shoving the traitorous thoughts aside.

"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle…?"

In the front row, Mrs. Weasley and Madame Delacour were both sobbing quietly into scraps of lace. Trumpetlike sounds from the back of the marquee told everyone that Hagrid had taken out one of his own tablecloth-sized handkerchiefs. Hermione turned and beamed at Harry; her eyes too were full of tears, and Harry found his hand moving up to brush the small drops away from her face, lingering on her soft skin for a moment longer than necessary.

" …then I declare you bonded for …"

Harry did not immediately notice that the wizard had stopped speaking midsentence. His eyes were focused on Hermione, as she smiled, practically radiating happiness. It wasn't until he heard a shout from the end of the aisle that he tore his eyes away from Hermione, only to watch an emerald green light shoot forward and blow the wizard backwards. Black cloaks began swirling around the wedding grounds, and their skeletal masks were briefly visible in the receding light of day.

Death Eaters had crashed the party.

Suddenly, the air was filled with colors as the Death Eaters unleashed their fury upon the unsuspecting wedding guests. Many of them screamed, attempting to run away, but caught by crossfire, many were felled before they even made it a few steps away from their chairs. Harry pulled out his wand, rushing immediately to defend the party. He Stunned two Death Eaters closest to him before their attention was drawn to him, but by then, the Order members had come to their wits and were exchanging blows with the invaders.

"Bloody bastards," grunted Ron from beside Harry. "Can't they take just one day off?" He ran off toward the house, leaving Harry and Hermione to take off in opposite directions, Hermione toward a group that Lupin and Tonks were fighting off, and Harry toward the altar, to help Bill and Fleur defend the more vulnerable guests as they attempted to flee.

"Sorry about your wedding, you two," Harry yelled to the still unmarried couple. "It seems none of us can ever catch a break."

Neither Bill nor Fleur replied, their faces etched with rage as they mercilessly attacked the group of 5 Death Eaters that were advancing toward them. Spells flared, and three of the Death Eaters fell to spells quickly. Harry Disarmed the fourth, following with a Bludgeoning Hex that sent him flying 20 feet backwards, where he did not move again. Harry only felt a slight twinge of worry that he might be dead, but the moment of distraction cost him, as the last Death Eater, frightened after seeing his cohorts fall so easily, yelled "Avada Kedavra," a millisecond before a hex took him out of commission. The bolt streaked toward Fleur, and Harry attempted to conjure a shield to protect her, but the spell simply phased straight through it. Fleur's eyes opened wide. Then, Harry watched as she was shoved aside by Bill and, seemingly in slow-motion, the spell impacted into Bill.

They both fell to the ground with an ominous thump. Fleur desperately shook Bill, sobbing uncontrollably, but Bill's lifeless eyes stared back unseeing. Harry looked around the battlefield, seeing the numerous bodies strewn across the ground. All dead or dying. Merely because they had attended the same party as him. And hatred welled up inside Harry as he let out an almost beastly roar that caught the attention of everyone there. "Hey, Death Eaters! I'm the one you want, so come and get me!"

The battlefield suddenly shifted as every cloaked figure began to fire at Harry, the valiant defenders unable to stem the tide that suddenly rushed toward him. Harry, meanwhile, found himself easily deflecting each and every spell sent toward him, as he filled with furious power. Every spell he cast in retaliation, whether Cutting or Bludgeoning, seemed to have increased by power almost tenfold, and the Death Eaters found themselves being cut open deeply enough to bleed to death within minutes. Bidden by some unknown force, he raised his left hand and a giant ball of fire shot out toward the cloaked figures, setting them on fire, screaming in agony as their flesh burned away. But still, they came. For every figure that Harry took out of the fight, another equally anonymous cloaked figure rushed in to take his place. Despite his newfound power, their numbers were simply too great to hold back.

Harry looked at the group of survivors standing near the Burrow, and his eyes found Hermione's. She looked on, frightened for him, and she shook her head desperately as she seemingly knew Harry's thoughts. He tried his best with his eyes to say he was sorry, as he turned on the spot, leaving the battleground behind, hoping that the Death Eaters would leave them in peace for now.

* * *

Moments later, Gnarl stood amazed as he watched the raven-haired wizard step out of the Netherworld portal. The power that engulfed the room was palpable enough to feel, so much so that even the normally unfazed Gnarl stood meekly. After a moment, in which Harry did nothing but breath heavily, Gnarl quietly muttered, "Sire?"

"…You were right, Gnarl…" Another moment of silence followed. "…I don't have enough power to destroy my enemies alone… " Harry slowly raised his eyes up to the Netherworld throne, revealing that his previously green irises had turned completely yellow, glowing with power. One look at those eyes, and Gnarl immediately knew that the Netherworld had a Master again.


	13. An Unexpected Visitor

Ooh, boy. Long update time. Apologies. *laughs nervously, hoping not to be murdered in unpleasant ways by his readers* I'm actually quite happy with how this chapter came out, despite the fact that I spent ages not knowing what the hell to write about for this chapter. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing it.

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**An Unexpected Visitor**

Harry sat on the Netherworld throne, watching interestedly as his Minions scurried to and fro, repairing the decrepit Tower. They lifted stone blocks larger than cows, swept the ground clear of any remaining debris, and buffed surfaces to a shine. Harry chuckled as he saw one Minion with a broom chasing a large rat. Whether he was just shooing it, or planning on eating it, Harry didn't know. And to be perfectly frank, he didn't _want _to know.

"Master, are you even listening to me?" Harry turned exasperatedly back to the old Minion, nodding his head. "Good. Now, we may have managed to secure both the fireball spell and the Red Minion Hive, but we still have a long way to go. As it is, we barely have the resources to man this entire tower, let alone command an empire. Our primary objective should be to gather plenty of Lifeforce so that we don't find ourselves all squished by a troll simply because you ran out of Minions."

Harry frowned. "But where are we going to get a substantial amount of Lifeforce? We'd be risking too much if we went in to the Forbidden Forest now, as we haven't enough Minions to take on the Centaurs."

"We could always raze a small town to the ground." Gnarl grinned ferally. "A little slaughter never hurt anyone… Well, except for the ones being slaughtered, I suppose."

Shaking his head, Harry replied, "No, Gnarl. We can't be bringing too much attention to ourselves right now. Not when we're still vulnerable." The truth be told, Harry was still hesitant about dropping too far into the darkness. He no longer had any qualms about putting Death Eaters to their deaths, as it was the only way to do any real damage to Voldemort's numbers, but condemning innocent people to the abyss just so he could gain more Minions? Harry didn't know whether he would ever cross that bridge, but he certainly wasn't crossing it right now. "What we need is a remote area hardly visited by humans but still full of animal life. Somewhere our presence will go unnoticed."

Gnarl scratched his chin, thinking, when the deafening noise that accompanied the opening of a Netherworld portal interrupted their thoughts. "What in the blazes?" Gnarl narrowed his eyes as Harry stood up, hand on the hilt of his sword. He absent-mindedly wished he was wearing his armor, but the Minions were still busy removing most of the rust from the decrepit metal. "No one should have been able to find us so easily," grumbled Gnarl.

"Quiet. Let's just find out who it is, and what they want." Harry watched silently as the portal opened. The ethereal light suffused the room once again, and a figure soon appeared out of the glare of the light. It was obviously feminine, with long blonde hair. She also wore a robe, clearly identifying her as a witch, but beyond that, Harry couldn't tell, as she was looking the completely opposite direction from the throne where he stood.

He didn't say anything for a moment, as the figure continued looking out into the massive cavern of the Netherworld. Then an airy voice emanated from her. "Well, I could have sworn this was the right place, but where on earth is the Overlord's throne?" Harry recognized the voice almost immediately, but there was just no way…

"Luna, is that you?"

She turned around. "Oh, there you are Harry. I was wondering why the Netherworld seemed so empty." Bloody hell, it _was _Luna. She was unmistakable as she practically bounced up to the throne and gave Harry a big hug. "Although, I suppose I should call you Master now, shouldn't I? And who is this adorable little Minion?" She reached down and scratched Gnarl's ears, silencing the sputtered protests emanating from the old creature and replacing them with what could only be described as a croon.

Harry knew he should really be getting used to these sudden revelations, but he found himself aghast once more. Not knowing where to start, he picked the most obvious concern, "Master…? Why would you call me Master?"

Luna looked at him incredulously, stopping her scratching of Gnarl's head. Or it might have been her normal expression, Harry couldn't quite tell. "Goodness, Harry, and I thought Ronald had a thick head. I've only been telling you for the past few weeks, haven't I?"

Confused for a moment, Harry thought, then arrived at the answer. "Because you want to be my Mistress?"

"Oh goodie, your brain does work! I'm so glad to see the Nargles are starting to release their hold on you, Master."

"Excuse me, young lady," interrupted Gnarl, "But just how, may I ask did you manage to find your way in here? I specifically told the Netherworld to seal itself to any visitors until we told it otherwise."

"Oh, it was quite easy, I merely replicated Harry's magical aura, overrode your command, and told it to let me in." She threw a something that looked like a pyramid at Gnarl, who quickly inspected it. "Now, Master, what is your first command for your Mistress? Should I walk around so I can add to the lovely atmosphere of the room? Or would you prefer me to help clean up the Private Quarters so that they're fit for habitation, and so we can have a little fun later?" She accentuated the last sentence by sashaying her hips suggestively, and Harry quickly felt all the blood rush to his face as he blushed.

Suddenly, Mistresses seemed like a great idea to him.

"L-look, Luna, not that I don't appreciate the offer, but can we talk about this later? We're a little busy right now. And please, you can still just call me Harry."

"While I certainly don't mind the beautiful young lady moving about like this, I'd have to agree with the Master." Harry saw an almost lecherous grin on the Minion's face as he watched Luna's lovely bottom sway back and forth. Scowling, Harry nudged the old bat a little harder than usual, and he quickly got back to business, though he kept stealing glances back to Luna. "Finding a remote area of the world is difficult these days, as the puny humans seem to have taken every bit of the globe for themselves. Greedy blighters. We'll fix that eventually, but for now, our best bet would likely be someplace with a climate cold enough to dissuade the average human from visiting, but not so cold that there would be no life present either."

Luna, who was now sitting in the Netherworld Throne sideways, he legs and head dangling off the uncomfortable armrests, raised her hand. "If it's cold and desolate you're looking for, I know the perfect place you could head to for Lifeforce gathering!"

Harry stared at Luna. How the bloody hell did she know more about this job than he did when she had only been there for five minutes? "Alright, Luna, let's hear it."

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So Luna enters the fold of Harry's Mistresses! Well, she kinda just sauntered in and told Harry that she was whether he liked it or not, but again, I'm actually rather proud of how I portrayed her this chapter. I only hope you think the same. On a related note, I checked my site stats for shits and giggles, and I was surprised to find that, despite having not updated this story in forever, I was regularly getting around 100 hits per day. Wow! You guys are all awesome! I'll do my best to get another chapter up soon, as my workload has dropped a little bit, but no promises, loves. 'Til next time. ^_^


	14. The Magical Reservation

A new chapter sooner than a month after the last one? Say it ain't so! For all you Dark Harry lovers, I'm sure you'll appreciate the development Harry finds himself undergoing in this chapter, but I'll not say any more, so as not to spoil it for you. Enjoy!

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**The Slaughterhouse... er, I Mean, Magical Reservation**

The raging fires of the Netherworld portal took quite a bit longer to quiet down for Harry this time. Similar to the Floo Network, he supposed, in that it was influenced by the distance he had to travel, unlike Apparition. But it was infinitely more comfortable than any magical transportation other than flying that he had encountered; in fact, the sensation reminded him of flying more than anything, as he seemed to fly through the portal, weightless, supported effortlessly by the , he heard the roar of the portal grow louder, signaling that his destination was near, and he found himself placed on top of the other end of the portal.

Harry immediately began shivering, as the cold air blew by. Thankfully, it being the middle of the summer, the ground was not covered in snow, with subzero temperatures, but it was certainly cold enough to dissuade anyone from visiting, especially in the summer when people would rather be on a beach.

"Are you quite enjoying yourself, Master?"

"No. No, I am not, Gnarl, as I'm sure you can tell." Ignoring the laughter in his ear, Harry took a few steps forward, casting a warming spell on himself. While they had been waiting for Grubby, the Minion responsible for creating Netherworld portals, to burrow his way to wherever Harry was now, Harry had managed to convince Gnarl to incorporate his wand into his sword. Though he had endured quite a lot of negative muttering while it was being done, he had managed to convince them in the end. While his immediate concern had been so that he might keep the protection of the dual wand cores, they had all been pleasantly surprised to learn that he could cast all his old spells even if the wand was encased in steel. After a bit of experimenting, Harry also discovered that he could do this completely nonverbally, and without all the silly wand-waving that had been required before. Luna had made an odd comment about how the magic of the Overlord had altered the magic of normal wizarding spells, but Harry was more relieved at the fact that he wouldn't accidentally stab himself doing a particularly large wand movement. Not to mention it just looked silly to wave a sword around.

Speaking of Luna… "Luna, where exactly did you say this was again?"

"It's a secret magical reservation in the northern part of Sweden, Master, quite close to Durmstrang, actually."

"Durmstrang? I thought their castle was Unplottable."

"Oh, it is, but that doesn't mean someone can't accidently stumble upon it. Father and I came here one summer looking for Aquavirius Maggots and found the castle. It isn't all that impressive."

While Durmstrang might not have been impressive, the landscape certainly was. Mountains towered on nearly every side of him, craggy ridges, trees, and short, tough grass dominating the scenery. The trees were sparse, allowing easy traversal of the land, but past that, he could easily see why Luna had suggested they come here to harvest Lifeforce. The area was positively teeming with life, magical and mundane creatures alike; squirrels were fleeing from packs of gnomes – both garden and the new variety – bowtruckles skittered up trees. Harry even thought he saw a Jabberknoll running between tree roots. "This is fantastic, Luna. I don't know how I can repay you."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of something when you get back to the Private Quarters later tonight, Master. The repairs are coming along quite nicely, and the bed looks extremely comfortable." The meaning behind Luna's comment did not escape Harry's notice, (He wasn't THAT dense) but he tried to focus on the task at hand, even as his mind wandered to the petite blonde. He didn't know whether it was his new title or his hormones trying to make up for years of neglect, but he found himself thinking about his female friends more and more often.

_Later, later, _he mentally chastised himself. Stretching his left arm out, Harry called forth his Minions from their respective gates. Currently, he could only call out twenty of them, though Gnarl hadn't managed to properly explain why that was, but he was hoping that the number would soon increase as he gained more control over his new powers. "Now, what do you think I should slaughter first, Gnarl? I don't suppose those squirrels are large enough to accumulate Lifeforce."

"Hardly, Master. Those puny squirrels aren't magical or large enough to build up any significant amount of Lifeforce in them. For now, I suggest you stick to those gnomes, until we come across something a little more lively."

"Of course they wouldn't, that'd be too easy." He strode forward, sending his Minions out to do their bloody work. For well over a quarter of an hour, the Minions slaughtered the endless numbers of gnomes as they made their way through the woods, accumulating dozens of Lifeforce orbs, both Brown and Red. Harry had to admit, the power he wielded felt good, as he threw out the occasional fireball to add to the carnage. In his mind, he was justifying his violence by knowing that what he was doing was necessary to end the life of Voldemort, but he'd be lying if he wasn't slowly starting to enjoy his power over the lives of these pathetic creatures. They were nothing more than ants, or roaches, infesting the land with their presence. And no one ever cried for stepping on an insect. These insects were just bigger.

A shrill sound began to pierce its way through the chilly air, stopping Harry and his Minions in their tracks. It sounded like laughter, but not the pleasant sort. More like a cackle. Was it a human? Harry couldn't tell, but he saw a large shadow flitting about in the boughs of a tree in the near distance. He commanded his Minions to follow him, dropping a few wounded gnomes as they did so, and they ran towards the shadow, following the sound of laughter as it jumped from tree to tree. "Be careful, Master, it might be some manner of trap," Gnarl whispered to him, but Harry shrugged off the warning. The cackle was simultaneously eerie and entrancing, drawing him toward it. Finally, the shadow stopped in a tree just in front of Harry, and the sinister laughter stopped.

Harry was just shaking the mental cobwebs off when a blur of movement rocketed away from the shadow, striking him in the chest. He looked down just in time to see darts bounce off his chestplate, but the impact sent him falling backwards. The Minions cried out in dismay, barely avoiding being crushed, and Harry commanded the Reds to throw their fireballs at the shadow. As the tree burst into flames, the shadow jumped out of it, accompanied by two others, Harry finally caught a glimpse of what had lured him. They were elf-like creatures, but easily the most hideous he had ever seen. Their eyes glowed a pale orange, and their bare bodies had the texture of wood and moss. Their noses were pointed, and their teeth sharp enough to easily tear flesh. They stood on two legs, but their backs were hunched over so far that they had to hold themselves up with their clawed hands, looking like demonic elves.

As the creatures dashed toward him, the Brown Minions quickly moved to intercept them, and a brawl began. The elves were large enough to hold their own against the ten Browns, managing to slay three of them in the short tussle, but when Harry regained his footing and ordered the Reds to resume their barrage of fireballs, they quickly disintegrated into screaming piles of ash, leaving behind a dozen Lifeforce orbs. "Take that, you freaky bastards!" The Minions brought the orbs to him, including a few Green ones, which Harry was resolved to ask Gnarl about later. "What were those things?"

"If I'm correct, those were Bavarian Erklings, Master," responded Luna. "They're elfish creatures that normally prey on young children, but their haunting laughter is effective on all people. They lure people away from others so that they can devour them, and as you can see, they also enjoy shooting darts at their victims. Not pretty."

"To say the least…" Harry kicked at the ashy remains of the three Erklings before noticing a gentle blue glow emanating from behind the tree.

"It's another spell stone, Sire!" And indeed it was. The wheel-shaped artifact was easy to identify.

"How convenient…" Harry wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, however, so he commanded his Reds to pick it up, and they set back for the Netherworld portal, ready to call it a day.

And a day it would have been, if not for the giant horned creature that they found investigating the portal.

"Why does this always happen to me," muttered Harry.

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Oh no, what monstrous creature lies just ahead? Check your copy of "Magical Creatures and Where To Find Them" and let me know your guess! I hope you enjoyed, my lovely little lemon drops, and stay tuned as continue our very important work. (That's stolen from The Gradual Report, by the way. If you don't know what that is, you should go look it up right now. Seriously, right now. Google it.)


	15. Battle with the Graphorn

Greeting, fair readers. Not much to say for this update, except this chapter was REALLY FUN to write. I could really see this battle played out in my head, and I hope I managed to convey it accurately. Enjoy.

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**Battle with the Graphorn**

"Why does this ALWAYS happen to me?" repeated Harry.

The creature was not immensely large, but certainly big enough to pose a significant threat to the small group; perhaps the size of around four horses. Its grayish purple skin curved over a humped back, and it walked around on strange feet that seemed to comprise of four thumbs. The most intimidating aspect of its features, however, was revealed when the beast turned to the side, allowing Harry to glimpse two large golden horns.

"Ooh, it's a Graphorn, Harry."

"I don't give a damn WHAT it is, Luna, it's keeping me from getting back home, so it needs to die."

He instructed his Reds to drop the spell stone, and was preparing to break cover and attack the Graphorn, when Luna piped up again. "Before you go killing, Harry, I thought it prudent to mention that Graphorn hide is rather resistant to magic. So your Reds will probably be rather ineffective, as will your own magic."

Harry huffed in frustration. He currently had only seven Brown Minions left thanks to the Erklings from before, not nearly enough to take on the huge beast in front of him. "If I might make a suggestion, Master," commented Gnarl, "if you can get your Minions up on the Graphorn's back, they can deal even more damage."

"Oh, what a clever suggestion, Gnarl!" Harry heard Gnarl begin crooning following Luna's exclamation, and he allowed himself a brief grin. "Do be careful, though, Harry. Graphorns are notoriously territorial and vicious. It'd be hard to get behind it without some sort of distraction."

Looking toward the Netherworld Portal, an idea struck Harry. If he could keep the beast's attention toward the Portal, it'd be a simple matter for his Reds and Browns to rush it from behind. Hopefully, they'd be able to hold on long enough to kill it, and Harry's bad day would be over. But to do that, he'd need a sacrifice of sorts.

Concentrating on the Brown Minion gate by the Netherworld, he summoned three Browns. Their sudden appearance startled the Graphorn, and it reacted just as Harry had expected, bellowing viciously at the new Minions seconds after they hit the ground. As they flew backwards from the force of the roar, Harry commanded the rest of his Minions to attack. Swiftly, they all jumped on the beast's back, ripping into its tough hide with clubs and fire-enhanced claws. The Graphorn bellowed in pain, trying desperately to remove its unseen attackers. It bucked up and down, successfully dislodging a few Reds, but the others managed to hold on, continuing to gouge large gashes in its back. Just when Harry thought that victory was assured, the Graphorn rolled over on its back, squashing the Minions underneath it, and it bounded off a short ways, breathing heavily. Luckily, the ground was soft, and most of the Minions seemed alive, but dazed and unable to fight.

The Graphorn gave another shout, and Harry cursed. If the Minions all died, he'd be practically defenseless against the creature. As it staggered towards his fallen Minions, Harry broke cover, blasting a fireball at its head, hoping to end the fight in one blow. The impact jerked the Graphorn's head to the side, and Harry could smell burning fur, but it seemed its resistance to magic had protected it from the majority of its destructive power. And now its attention was focused solely on Harry.

Shit.

The Graphorn lumbered at Harry, swinging its horns back and forth. If they hit Harry, he would certainly be heavily wounded, if not killed outright. As it bounded closer, Harry took a mighty swing with his sword, attempting to stab the Graphorn in the head, but its horns took the brunt of the attack, and Harry went spinning, falling to the ground, narrowly avoiding being impaled. He barely rolled out of the way of another swing of the horns, and as the beast took another pass at him, Harry thought for sure he was dead right then and there. At the last second, a small group of Minions jumped in front of him; their bodies changed the trajectory of the horns enough so that Harry was only grazed rather than impaled, but the blow still knocked the wind out of him.

Stars danced in front of his face when he heard Luna yell in his ear, "Magic, Harry, use magic! Something powerful!"

_Something… powerful? _Thinking about the sharp sword in his hand, Harry swung it, yelling the first spell that came to his mind. "SECTUMSEMPRA!"

Harry felt a spray of hot liquid splash against his slightly exposed face, and heard the Graphorn roar in pain. He quickly rolled out of the way, hoping to avoid being trampled, then stood up. The Graphorn was stumbling around directionless, and it was easy to see why; gashes covered its entire face, its eyes punctured, with blood flowing freely. The two horns had also been chopped off, the combination of spell and sword having cut through them like a hot knife through butter. Looking at the sword, Harry noticed that a faint green aura was quickly fading from existence. It seemed that he had the ability to channel his spells into the sword, as well as through it, and could change its properties by doing so. If using Sectumsempra increased the sharpness of the blade by that much… well, he was certainly looking forward to trying out other combinations.

Finally, the Graphorn tumbled to the ground, attempting fruitlessly to get back up. Rage flowing through his veins, Harry strode up to the now pitiful creature, slicing its throat with a grunt, the blood spraying all over him. He raised his gauntleted hand up into his field of vision, closing it roughly, reveling in the power he felt. No longer was he powerless against Voldemort and his goons. No. Now he could bring the fight to them, and they would know the true meaning of fear.

"Oh, well done, Master!" Gnarl's exclamation brought him back to the present. "Now grab that spell stone and let's get out of there before something REALLY bad shows up. Like a dragon."

Harry nodded, briefly taking account of his Minions as he sent them to pick up the stone. He'd lost nine Minions in the fight: three Brown, six Reds. What a waste. Speaking of waste, it seemed a shame to allow the Graphorn to just decompose out in the wild. "Hey Gnarl, do you think we can put this corpse to good use? Its hide is magic-resistant, after all."

"Hmm… I don't see why not. The horns we can definitely use to add to our treasury – they'll fetch a fine price on the black market. And we might be able to turn that hide into some useful clothes for you for when you must mingle with the commoners in secret. Likewise for your Mistress."

Luna giggled, and Harry replied, "Actually, maybe you could just put those horns up on display. I have a feeling you won't ever have to worry about gold once you learn what's in my account at Gringott's Bank."

He summoned another ten Brown Minions to help carry the carcass of the Graphorn into the Netherworld, as Luna said. "After your very manly actions today, Harry, I think you quite deserve a reward, don't you agree?" Suddenly, Harry was very eager to get back, shoving the Minions out of the way so that he could travel back first.

Being Evil certainly had its perks, and he planned to take advantage of each and every one.

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So, Harry has discovered another little power by combining his spells with his sword. This idea really just came out of the blue during this chapter, but I think it makes sense. Let me know your ideas for possible combination with other spells, for example, Incendio causing the sword to become covered in flames, or Finite Incantatum causing any spell that contacts the sword to fizzle out. Review and leave me your ideas, and I'll love you forever.


	16. The Next Step

****Oh, hey, this fanfic isn't dead yet! Enjoy!

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**The Next Step**

"Gnarl, there's something we need to do if we want to take care of Voldemort once and for all."

Harry sat hunched over on his bed in the almost completely renovated Private Quarters, Gnarl standing in front of him with a look of curiosity on his face. "I thought I had already made it clear, m'Lord. That peon Voldemort won't stand a chance before you and your Minions."

Harry nodded in agreement. Even after such a short time, he already knew that his power would soon be equal to Riddle's if not greater. "That's true, Gnarl. But it doesn't matter how many times we kill him unless we take care of this first… He's created Horcruxes."

Gnarl's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Horcruxes, eh?"

Harry nodded, not too surprised that Gnarl knew the term. "I assume you're familiar with them, then."

"Oh, very much so, Master. So that's how he survived that night sixteen years ago." Gnarl grinned slightly. "Well, maybe that old snake is smarter than I gave him credit for. It certainly explains his ugly mug. Ripping one's soul apart is murder on the skin. Now, do you know how many Horcruxes he has, or where they're located?"

"Yes and no. Dumbledore and I managed to guess a lot of things, but nothing too concrete. Voldemort likely only created six Horcruxes, as he was convinced that having his soul split into seven parts would be most effective."

"Yes, yes, quite understandable reasoning," mused Gnarl. "Seven is the most powerful magical number, after all."

"That was our conclusion as well. Besides the fragment in his own body, we'd deduced that he placed his soul in an old diary from his school days, a ring his grandfather had inherited, a locket belonging to Salazar Slytherin, a cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, his pet snake, Nagini, and one more unknown relic, most likely related to the Hogwarts Founders. Thankfully, I destroyed the diary 4 years ago, and Dumbledore destroyed the ring last year. A few months ago, we thought we'd found the locket but…" Harry paused slightly, then continued. "But someone had already found it, and left a note in its place. Dumbledore wound up dead because of the protections around it; I can only imagine what the others will be like. As for where? Well, I haven't a clue, to be honest."

Gnarl nodded slowly once more. "Hmmm, yes… Well, I wouldn't worry overmuch, m'Lord." Harry blinked twice, aghast. "Think for a moment, Master. Without knowing where to look for these Horcruxes, without any clues hinting at their whereabouts, what could you do at the moment that would make a difference? Wander around the countryside, hoping to stumble across them by chance? Looking for clues where none ought to exist?"

Harry opened his mouth to protest, then just as quickly shut it. That _would _have been amazingly stupid.

"Where is this note you mentioned?"

"Back at the Burrow, along with everything else I own," Harry replied with a hint of venom. He didn't even know if the Burrow was still standing, let alone if his possessions were still there.

"We'll have to remedy that soon, I suppose. Now then, we have almost a hundred Minions at our disposal now. More than enough to obey your command and lay waste to your enemies. However, they will need a strong Overlord to lead them into battle, so I believe our next move should be to find some Artefacts to supplement your power. Perhaps your new Mistress has another bright idea?"

Turning around, Harry grinned at the sleeping form of Luna. "Somehow, I don't think her knowledge extends to magical objects, but I suppose it's worth asking… Later, when she wakes up. I think I exhausted her, and she could use the rest. In the meantime, is there a way that I might get back to the Burrow undetected?"

"Worry not, Master, your Minions can easily retrieve your belongings."

"I don't doubt that Gnarl, but I have a suspicion that if I send them alone, they'll end up blowing up half of Ottery St. Catchpole on their way."

"Your point being?" Gnarl asked with a condescending look on his face.

Harry fumed slightly. "So I thought we agreed to lay low until we had a stronger foothold in the world? We can't assume that such destruction would be blamed on Voldemort, especially since he now controls the Ministry." Inspiration hit Harry on how to further convince Gnarl, and he continued, "Besides, it'd be rather difficult to rule over a giant hole in the ground."

"Domination before destruction, eh? Now that I understand completely, Master. However, I'm hesitant to create a Netherworld gate anywhere near wizarding dwellings, especially one such as the Burrow, which is undoubtedly being watched. Even a mere Minion gate could be caught by accident if we aren't careful."

"Wait." Maybe there _was_ somewhere they could spawn. "What about Luna's house? It's a short walk from the Burrow, and a gate could go undetected when everyone thinks the Lovegoods are as eccentric as they act."

"Hrm… Perhaps. Even then, I wouldn't risk anything more than a single Minion gate. Luckily for you, Master, I know a way for you to keep a close eye on your Minions even if your body can't join them. Leave your tired Mistress and follow me."

* * *

The large chunk of glittering black stone stood menacingly in front of Harry, a Minion standing atop it. "What exactly did you say this was again, Gnarl?"

"A Possession Stone, Master. This shard of the Netherworld is imbued with special magics and will allow your spirit to enter the body of a Minion and control them and other Minions. Unappetizing though it may sound, it does have practical uses, such as if you are too large to enter a certain area, or if you need to sneak around undetected, just like now. Though I do wish we had the Green Minions for this; their stealth capabilities are far more useful for reconnaissance and retrieval." Harry looked skeptically at the stone, glowing red-orange from reflection of the lava in the background. "Well, no time to waste, Master. Grubby has informed me that the Brown Minion gate is now up within the wards of the Lovegood household. The sooner you get in that Minion, the sooner you can get out."

Harry nodded, then stepped closer to the Possession Stone. Unsure of what to do, Harry allowed his magic to trickle forth. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the stone and the area around it began to crackle and glow with magic, and Harry felt something _pull _at him. Suddenly very, _very _tense, he attempted to call the magic back, but the pull was impossible to deny. Somehow, he felt his presence leave his body, flying through the air directly towards the Minion atop the stone, and melded right into the small body. There was a brief flicker of struggle as his own spirit subjugated the Minion's mind, imposing his will on the creature, and then he was looking at his own body, knelt on the ground, shrouded in a magic field, his body's eyes unfocused and unseeing.

Harry wondered if his life would EVER be normal.

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Next time: Sneaking around the Burrow. Among other things. It's still up in the air at the moment. Feel free to send me more ideas for spell/weapon combinations and any other ideas you may have regarding my fic. Reviews are always appreciated.


	17. What Am I Doing?

Long story short: Absence due to lack of inspiration, then augmented by a stolen computer and loss of all previous material concerning the story. Recently, I hit a writer's block, and am using this story as a tool to overcome that. Many apologies, loyal readers.

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**What Am I Doing?**

The ride to the surface through the Minion Gate was not as pleasant as his Netherworld portal. Not because the portal itself was any different. His almost instant journey was just as gentle and comfortable as his other portal.

The difference was Harry itched.

To be fair, Harry wasn't sure if the itching was physical or mental. All he knew was this tiny body felt like it had never taken a bath or even touched water in its life, let alone soap. Which, again to be fair, it probably hadn't.

Harry soon felt the end of the portal approaching. He popped out of the portal, shooting a few meters into the air. Thankfully, the body was rather agile, and it seemed the magic involved in his possession adjusted his reflexes accordingly, so Harry was able to land (somewhat) gracefully.

In his mind, Harry heard Gnarl sign with relief. "Glad to see you've arrived in one piece, Master. To be honest, I've never sent a possessed Minion through a gate before. There was always a chance your spirit might have been wrenched from the Minion's body and sent spinning off into the aether." Harry felt himself pale considerably. Or, his Minion body did. Maybe his real one did as well, but he couldn't rightfully tell. "Fret not, Sire. In such cases, including Minion death, your spirit will always return to your own body. Well, usually. Either way, I don't recommend it. It can be painful if done incorrectly."

"Not helping, Gnarl." Harry tried to speak, but the Minions vocal chords didn't seem to work correctly, his words coming out as a meaningless growl, but Harry could tell the mental link carried the message across regardless.

"Er, right." Nine more Minions popped out of the gate behind Harry, the Minions relaxing in the shade of the tree it was under. Ten Minions, Harry had decided, would be small enough a number to go relatively unnoticed, but large enough to move all of Harry's things. "We're on the outskirts of the Lovegood property, Sire. That wreck of a house they call the Burrow is a short walk from where you are, so best get moving."

Nodding, Harry gestured to the Minions around him, who snapped to attention immediately, and they began jogging in the direction of the Burrow. "So, Gnarl, you never did tell me what the new spell stone does."

"Actually, Sire, I did, but you had other things on your mind at the time. Specifically, a blonde nymphy something." Gnarl cackled lewdly, but Harry couldn't find it in himself to be cross over such an enjoyable thing. "While you can't use your spells in this Minion body, the spell you recovered is one of my favorites: The Minion Spell. Now, the Minion spell will give you a little more creative control over your Minions, Lord. You can make super tough Minions who will literally _explode_ with power, or sacrifice them to boost your own health, strength, and durability."

Harry admitted it sounded quite useful in a pinch. It'd have to wait, though, as they reached their destination. All around the Burrow, the wreckage of the ransacked wedding remained. The bodies had been removed, but whether by Death Eaters or Ministry or the Weasleys, Harry couldn't know. He suspected the Death Eaters wouldn't have cared enough to clean up after themselves, but he couldn't imagine Mrs. Weasley leaving such a mess on her property. The Burrow was, miraculously, still standing, though with a few holes. An air of silence hung over the scene.

"Seems abandoned."

"Indeed, Master. Best to move ahead cautiously, though. Might be any number of traps waiting."

Harry nodded, moving between the rubble, his Minions scavenging the debris for anything useful. As they entered the house, Harry's suspicions were confirmed; a thin layer of dust coated every surface. No one had been here for a few days. Harry ordered his Minions to spread out through the house to look for any possible hints of the whereabouts of the inhabitants. Strangely, there seemed no signs of struggle or ransacking within the house. Every room had been tidily cleaned out, as if the Weasley's had just decided to move. Harry hoped this meant his sudden departure from the wedding had drawn away the Death Eaters and given everyone time to escape.

"Mastah! Mastah!" As Harry climbed another set of stairs, a Minion scampered out of what he recognized as his and Ron's room, clutching a sheet of paper. "Gnasher has found a note! It's got Mastah's name on it!"

Harry snatched the paper out of the Minion's hand, opening it as the rest of them shoved each other about, trying to get a better view of the note, which Harry thought was odd; could the Minions even read?

_Dear Harry,_

_Time is short, but knowing you are sure to return for your things, I thought you'd like to know just what's happened and what we've learned since you escaped. YKW has taken over the Ministry. That's not surprising; Kingsley let us know soon after the attack that it had happened. That's how they managed to break into the wedding. What's surprising is how subtle the takeover has been, at least according to Kingsley. On the outside, everything looks the same, even saying that Voldemort and his Death Eaters are still enemies of the Ministry, but it's only propaganda. Their attacks have increased and are being ignored by the Ministry or pretending they're powerless to stop it. The entire Ministry is basically a poster now. So the same, except with YKW pulling the strings._

_As for us… You know Bill died. Somehow, he was the only one that day. Fleur's distraught, but staying with us. The day after the wedding, a "Ministry Official" came and told us we were being moved to a safer place, one more befitting "upstanding purebloods" like us, but it's really just so they can keep us under their noses. Before you ask, I don't know where Hermione is. The moment you disapparated, the Death Eaters fled, and Hermione ran to where you'd been. I didn't see what she did, but a second later, she disapparated as well. She must've known it wouldn't be safe for her, even with us. I hope it means she's with you. Anywhere but in the clutches of those bloody Death Eaters._

_Anyway, we've hid your things in the attic under your cloak, far left corner. Funnily enough, it seems the ghoul left during the attack. Silver linings, eh? One last thing; DON'T COME LOOKING FOR US! It's sure to be what YKW expects, and why we're to be under surveillance, but don't expect for a second that we won't be doing our best to stick it to that ruddy bastard. Just get on with what we know you need to do. Give 'em hell, Harry._

_~Ron_

Harry felt a rush of numerous emotions fly through him as he read the note. Anger and concern foremost among them. They boiled up within him, but he pushed them aside for now. He sent his Minions to retrieve his belongings, pondering his next course of action. The Weasley's were safe, for all the good it did them. Hermione was on the run alone somewhere. Voldemort was in power and immortal, and Harry still had no clue where his Horcruxes were…

Harry barely took notice of himself leaving the Burrow, Minions and luggage in tow. He seemed to have stumbled upon his major problem: information. He may have known carefully-guarded secrets like the existence of Voldemort's Horcruxes, but when it came to the bigger picture, he was clueless. He didn't know the workings of the Ministry, nor the state of the Order of the Phoenix, or even where to begin his search for Voldemort's Horcruxes. He was flailing around in the dark, hoping to score a lucky hit against his foes. He needed information, detailed information, from inside every organization, or else he would continue to wander aimlessly and eventually get himself killed. With a wry grin, he felt he understood why Hermione desired knowledge as much as she did; it was damn useful.

Of course, his grin disappeared as he thought of Hermione. He had all but abandoned her to the mercy of the Death Eaters, and she had only escaped by luck. That was assuming she hadn't already been captured by Voldemort's people since then. It was almost too much.

"M'Lord?" Gnarl's voice echoed in his head. "I am loath to interrupt your thoughts, but we have arrived at the Minion Gate. I think I may have an answer for your little information problem in the meantime."

It felt a little disconcerting to realize that Gnarl had read his thoughts without him actually articulating them. "How's that?"

Harry could practically hear the feral grin on Gnarl's face. "You're familiar with your Ministry's so called 'Unforgivable Curses,' yes? It just so happens that all three were derived from one of the Overlord's natural powers, which we call the 'Evil Presence.' So tell me this, young Master; do you know anyone within a position of power? And do you dislike them enough to force them to submit to you?"

It took Harry a grand total of 5 seconds to make his decision.

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Constructive criticism is always welcome! R&R


	18. Enter the Toad

**Enter the Toad**

Delores Jane Umbridge was having a wonderful day. After a year of inquiries, departmental shuffling, and other nonsense, she had finally been restored to her rightful place as Senior Undersecretary to the Minister. Rather unceremoniously, it was true, and certainly without the apology she deserved, but she was glad those in charge had finally come to their senses.

At the moment, she found herself turning down Knockturn Alley. After a day of meetings with the new Minister, she had received an anonymous tip sent to her office about some possible criminal activity occurring. In addition to her old post, Umbridge had been granted new powers and responsibilities by Pius in order to keep the peace.

Ah, Pius Thickness. Umbridge found the new Minister a bit too pliable at times, for lack of a better tern, but he was a man who understood the necessity of order in a healthy society. A garden could run the risk of overgrowth and death if not properly maintained, after all.

Umbridge mentally chastised herself for getting lost in daydreams; no time for such frivolity when on the job. Deftly sidestepping an old hag streetseller – though waddling might be a more accurate description – she unsheathed her wand as she approached the alley that the note had mentioned. True to its word, she heard soft, gravelly voices just around the corner, speaking in hushed tones, an obvious sign of those who didn't wish to be found. Non-human too, from the sound of it. Disgusting.

A moment's preparation, then Delores strode around the corner, proclaiming, "Stop where you are and put your hands in the air where I can see them."

The noise immediately ceased. A second's confusion, as the Senior Undersecretary looked around until she noticed the short creatures a few feet from her. Easily the ugliest… _things _she had ever seen, but at the same time, she was not entirely sure what they were. The creatures stared at her, unmoving. Most importantly, they had not followed her instructions. Incensed, Umbridge raised her wand at the vermin. "Identify yourselves."

The creatures then had the fall to _growl _at her, then one said, "Fat woman is not the Master. Crusher not be answerin' her."

Her temper rising, Umbridge cast a powerful _Bombarda _at the feet of the uncouth creature, blowing it into the air. She thought she heard a crunch as it landed harshly on the pavement. "Non-humans shall address their superiors with the proper respect, or suffer the consequences for their insubordination. Tell me, elf," for Umbridge was convinced these creatures were house-elves, from their strange speech. Hideously malformed though they may be. "Who is your Master?"

The elf who had insulted her rose slowly, seemingly unharmed, to Umbridge's surprise, but it was the other who gleefully replied, "The Master is him!" pointing over Umbridge's shoulder.

Whatever anger and reprimand Umbridge had planned to speak deserted her after she turned and came face-to-face with the most frightening vision she had ever seen. Before her stood a giant suit of armor, the only proof of an inhabitant the menacing aura of magic surrounding it and two vicious yellow eyes flaring at her with more venom than a dozen runespoors.

It was a testament to Umbridge's will that she did not faint on the spot. The fact that she didn't run screaming was more a testament to her stupidity.

Wand arm shaking erratically, Umbridge cleared her throat – _hem, hem – _and addressed the figure. "B-by the authority of the Ministry, I d-demand that you identify yourself."

The figure gave no response, more any acknowledgement of her statement, except perhaps a brief flare of its aura.

Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Umbridge straightened herself to her full height of five feet and a quarter inch and spoke again, more clearly, "I will not repeat myself again; identify yourself. If you refuse, I am authorized by the Ministry to use extreme force to apprehend possible criminals."

Another pause. A standoff between the two mismatched figures. Then, to Umbridge's relief, though she would never admit it, the figure slowly raised its left arm, palm open, as if in truce or to remove its helmet.

Then, before she could begin to react, the figure suddenly dropped its arm.

Umbridge didn't hear the scuffling sounds behind her. She barely felt the club smack into the back of her skull. And she certainly wasn't aware of being unconscious until she woke up several hours later.

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I know, I know, the chapter is rather short, but I did this for two reasons. 1: I wanted you reassure you guys that the last chapter was not a random fluke of boredom. 2: The next chapter is shaping up to be quite a bit longer than most with lots of character development and, hopefully, a lot of stuff happening that you'll really enjoy. Feel free to speculate in a review. Mwuahahaha hahaha HAHHAAHA...*hack**cough*haha...


	19. The Evil Presence

**The Evil Presence**

"Be careful strapping her on that rack. We want her to be uncomfortable, not in pain. Not yet, at least."

The group of Minions maneuvering the unconscious body of Umbridge cackled at their new Mistress's instructions, while Harry looked on, amused at how devoted they were to Luna. Not for the first time, he marveled at how little he knew about the blonde, even with their numerous connections over the years. Despite her… oddness, Harry found himself enjoying her company far more with the passing time. They had so much in common, so much to offer each other. _Not to mention, _Harry thought, ogling Luna's shapely bottom, _she's not bad to look at._

The blonde in question caught Harry's wandering eyes. Abandoning her task, she sashayed her way over to Harry, the impish smile on her face setting Harry's heart racing. She stopped in front of him, eyes dancing with mischief. "Do you like what you see, my Lord?"

Repressing the urge to just nod dumbly, Harry grinned and replied, "What do you think?"

"What do I think?" Luna asked, chewing on her lip. After a moment, she reached up, trailing a finger down his cheek, finally resting against his lips. "I'll tell you later, in your chambers." With that, she spun around and went back to directing Minions.

The breathless and flushed Harry she had left behind her took a moment to start breathing again. "Gnarl, quickly tell me more about this spell you were talking about."

The old Minion was already at his side. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather take care of your Mistress, m'Lord? We can always delay your plans a few hours."

"Don't tempt me."

Gnarl chuckled quietly. "Aw you wish, Sire. As I said before, this "spell" is the base for the three curses your society calls the Unforgivables. In antiquity, it used to be a spell just as you Fireball is, but since then has become such an integral part of the role of The Overlord, its magicks have become a part of the font of power that is unique to you and your predecessors."

"You're saying the spell evolved somehow? How does that work?"

Gnarl seemed to struggle with the question for a moment. "In truth, Sire, the subtleties of magic and its essences is not my forte. Another lead Minion by the name of Mortis might be able to better answer your questions, but at another time. Suffice it to say, we have witnessed some spells change over time while others like the Fireball remain relatively unchanged throughout the centuries.

Harry nodded, at least accepting the basics if nothing else. If Hermione was here, she'd be sure to have a lengthy discussion… No, best not think of her right now. "What do you call it?"

"The Evil Presence, Lord."

Harry bristled at the name. Throwing a ball of fire at someone was one thing, but using magic that was so Dark it even described itself by name as Evil… "How does it work?"

"Well, the process is fairly straightforward. Essentially, you are imposing your will upon someone for a period of time. If and when you release your hold on them, their will becomes subservient to your own – the basis of what you would consider the Imperius curse, albeit a more powerful and permanent version of it."

"And if I don't release the power?"

The malicious grin on Gnarl's face was answer enough. "The original Avada Kedavra, m'Lord. Continue to impose your will on your victim long enough or strongly enough, and you will eventually force their soul or consciousness or what have you out of the body. True, the spell you're familiar with does the job more quickly, but it's so impersonal, so dull. Where's the fun in an immediate, silent kill, eh?"

Harry wasn't exactly sure how he felt at Gnarl's revelations – discomfort, if not revulsion, was near the top of the list – but he was adamant on finishing the conversation. "Where does the Cruciatus aspect come in?"

"I should have though it rather obvious that having one's essence forcibly subjugated by another would not be a pleasant experience, Sire."

Harry grunted in affirmation. He didn't like his options as they stood. Torturing a woman into submission, even one as foul as Umbridge, into subjugation? "Why not simply Imperius her?"

At his, Gnarl actually burst into laughter, both surprising and annoying Harry. "Sorry, master, sorry. You are quite the comedian. Thinking you'd be able to cast an advanced curse like the Imperius correct the first time when it takes hours of practice to learn something as simple as levitation? The idea is simply absurd. Even then, why chance using a spell with such a history of being resisted and risk being discovered?"

Harry was forced to accept the logic on all counts; the Minions might be only slightly smarter than sheep (which, according to Gnarl, had only seven brain cells) but Gnarl had been around the block several dozen times. He knew what he was talking about. "Fine. How would I use this Evil Presence, then?"

"The same as you use your Fireball, Sire," Gnarl said slowly. The way he looked at Harry made him feel as if Gnarl was treating him like a child.

Harry felt his frustration mounting. "But how? I don't even know how it is I've been doing THAT."

"…Apologies, Master. I sometimes forget your upbringing. All that focus on namby-pamby wand-waving and obsession with doing Good." Harry sighed in relief, sensing he was finally about to get answers. "Tell me, what were you thinking and feeling during the wedding when you decided to start setting those henchman on fire rather than using your wand?"

The answer came immediately. "I was furious. They barged into the wedding, killed Bill, tried to kill everyone else there. All because I happened to be present. I just couldn't take it anymore. They had to be punished."

Gnarl nodded. "Now, if my knowledge is correct, you are able to cast the spell known as the Patronus Charm correctly, yes?" Harry also nodded, vaguely wondering if the Dementors had some connection to the Overlord or the Netherworld. "Yeuch. Nasty spell for us Evil folk. Obviously, you know the primary necessity that makes the spell work."

"A truly happy thought." When Gnarl did not respond, it took Harry only a moment to make the connection. "What, you're saying that my 'Overlord spells' are fueled by anger?"

"Correct, though not the full picture. Any negative emotion is the catalyst for the usage of your powers. When you decided to make Death Eater toast, you were filled with a righteous rage at their intrusion and massacre at the wedding. When you battled the Graphorn, presumably you were filled with a more personal fury at his preventing you from coming back to the Netherworld. Wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony. These are the fundamental sources of your power."

"Oh, Master!" A sing-song voice interrupted their discussion, heralding the arrival of Luna, and distracting Harry from what on earth – or under earth – he thought about this new revelation from Gnarl. "Your prisoner awaits your Evil ministrations." The blonde must have noticed Harry's hesitation, however, as her tone quickly changed. "Is something the matter?"

"Maybe… I just… I wonder if this is right or even necessary. The thought of torturing someone into servitude… It's inhumane."

Gnarl growled in exasperation, muttering about the good days when Overlords didn't have existential crises all the time. Luna blinked slowly. "Oh, poor Harry. You must be suffering from amnesia. The Flumpawumps have got hold of you for sure."

"Uh, what makes you think that?"

What next came out of Luna's mouth was in her usual dreamy voice. It was pleasant to hear, and Harry quite enjoyed listening to her. To Harry, however, the disconnect between what was said and how it was said made it possibly the most frightening thing he had ever heard.

"It's obvious. That's the only way you could possibly forget how much of a horrid person that despicable toad in the next room is. The same toad, for that's all she is, that ruled over the school with an iron fist, punishing any who disagreed with her. The same toad that tortured you by forcing you and countless other to cut open their hands night after night for daring to speak the truth. The same toad that sat by Fudge's side and allowed Voldemort to gain power unchallenged because she was too much of a sheep to an incompetent power-hungry simpleton. If there is one person in this world other than Voldemort who is deserving of horrific punishment, it is Delores Jane Umbridge. Now, Harold James Potter, you go into that torture chamber and put the fear of the Overlord into that woman."

Stunned silence was her answer.

Harry stood still, shocked into silence and more than a little bit of fear.

Gnarl was appalled, and seethed with rage at the toady woman, and the audacity of anyone, even a Mistress, speaking to the Overlord in such a way.

The other Minions scratched their bums and picked their noses, neither knowing nor caring why everyone was suddenly quiet.

It was Harry who finally broke the long silence.

"Harold?"

Luna immediately looked confused. "Oh, is Harry not short for Harold? Phooey…"

Harry shook his head, bemused, when Gnarl interjected, "Your Mistress is quite right, Sire. Such vile atrocities committed against your Lordship are unpardonable! If it were up to me, the woman would find herself thrown into the smelter alive, while we slowly dripped in lava. I'll go wake the toad for you, Lord."

Gnarl left, mumbling more inventive torture methods under his breath, as Luna gave Harry one more look. "Are you sure you can do this, Harry?"

He nodded confidently. "Yes. You're right, Luna. That vile woman has hurt too many people. She deserves this more than just about anyone. And you reminded me of something else too." At Luna's silent urgings, he continued, "The day of the wedding, as I fought off those Death Eaters, I realized that stunning and disarming did nothing but allow good people to die by leaving the evil ones alive. That was the day I decided to take up this mantle, to become The Overlord. I knew that to save my friends, I had to do anything and everything in order to end these bastards, even if it meant abandoning the 'Light'. I can't afford mercy to my enemies, because I know they won't return the favor."

"I'm so glad to hear that, Harry." Luna gave him a swift kiss, then grabbed his helm and placed it upon his head. "Dramatics are very important, after all."

"Fine. But only if you take all my armour off later."

"Ooh, is that a command, my Dark Master?"

"I can make it one."

Luna's smile only widened. "You're learning."

Gnarl took this opportunity to re-enter the room, informing Harry that Umbridge was now conscious and ready for interrogation, and Luna ushered Harry away with words of encouragement. Harry took one last second to adjust his helmet and steel his resolve, then entered the room. He didn't know what the future held, but he knew now that he would never again wait passively for it to come to him. Now was the time for action.

* * *

**A/N: **I had originally intended to include the torture of Umbridge, but it just keeps going and going. I found so much material to expand upon here, I decided to separate the scenes for your enjoyment and for my update schedule. Also, kudos if anyone gets the Flumpawumps reference; I'll bring it up again next chapter. Feel free to speculate on what's going to happen, I do so enjoy reviews with substance, though simple ones are welcome as well. Specifically, whether you like my sense of humour/whether you think it fits the story. Woops, there I go begging for reviews again, how unprofessional. Til next time!


	20. Just Desserts

A/N: TRIGGER WARNING: Violence, Torture, Implied Rape. I don't think any of you would be reading this story if you were subject to these triggers, but better safe than sorry. Enjoy your Schadenfreude.

* * *

**Just Desserts**

As far as torture chambers went, Harry wasn't very impressed.

Not that Harry had the opportunity to examine many – or any – torture chambers before. But still, it was obvious this room had seen better days. A thick layer of dust covered most of the room. There were numerous stains from ages past. And of the few torture instrument left, most seemed rusted beyond use. Only one seemed to be in any working order, possibly hastily cleaned by the Minions, upon which rested their prisoner. Although "rested" was probably not the right term. Umbridge was straining feebly against the manacles of the rack, and began yelling at Harry the moment she saw him.

"You detestable ingrate! How dare you!? I demand you release me this instant! _I _am Delores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. I could have you and your mongrel creatures put to death without a second thought!" A minute had yet to pass, and Harry could already feel his head throbbing with pain.

Scowling, he strode over to the still screaming woman and shoved his gauntleted hand against her throat. The insults came to a choking halt, and the toad glared up at Harry with a mixture of fear and insolence. "I wouldn't be talking about power, Umbridge. You have none right now. And if you still value your life, you'll show a bit more respect to those who hold your life in their hands."

He released his hold on Umbridge, who sputtered and coughed, gasping for air. "Your voice… We've met before, haven't we? Who are you?"

"Well, I'd hoped to put off the reveal for a bit longer, but since you asked, I suppose I'll tell you. After all, the only thing you ever taught me was that I must not tell lies."

Harry could see the comprehension dawning on her face even as he pulled off his helmet. "Potter?! You… What…?" Harry could practically see her mind reeling from the information, but he wanted to get moving along; he wanted this to be over with already.

"What's the matter? Centaur got your tongue?"

The outrage and color on Umbridge's face could have rivaled his Uncle Vernon's. "You insolent brat! I knew from the moment I laid eyes on you that you were nothing but rouble. Just an ill-tempered narcissistic gloryhound with no regard for others. Let me go, or by Merlin, you'll beg for the days when scars were the only thing you had to worry about."

"Your threats don't frighten me, Umbridge," Harry replied coldly. "They never did, not even two years ago, however hard you tried to make me submit. You're nothing but a lapdog, using the power of others to do whatever you want. Without them, you're helpless. However, you're a lapdog with connection. Connections and information. Both of which I want. Now, I will give you this choice one time and one time only; you can either cooperate with me, or we can do this the hard way."

Umbridge sneered in defiance, even as Harry stepped closer to the rack. "The hard way? Is that supposed to intimidate me, Potter? You don't have the courage to do such a thing. Even your disgusting Mudblood friend was more – "

Umbridge's own blood-curdling scream cut off the rest of her sentence, as Harry suddenly felt a burning rage empower him, a blast of blue energy streaming between his outstretched arm and Umbridge's body. Still seething, he cut the thread, leaving her coughing violently from the pain of her now raw throat, shaking in agony. Such pain, such power… and it had lasted less than a second. But Harry was feeling far too vindictive to brood over such a thing at the moment. It was too powerful to squeeze the retribution out of Umbridge he desired. Thankfully, torture wasn't limited to physical means.

"Speaking of Hermione, I did a little research into Centaurs last year." Umbridge was suddenly very alert, staring at Harry even as her breath quickened. "It didn't take long to learn just what Centaurs do to the women they take captive. You do too, I'm sure." He could see the utter fear in the woman's mind now, reliving that painful day in her memory. "At first, I was in denial. Hermione mustn't have known, couldn't have known such a thing and still left you at their mercy. But even then, I knew better. Hermione Granger is the brightest witch of her age. She knows everything there is to know about anything. That day, I was reminded to never, ever cross my best friend. So tell me, Umbridge," Harry leaned in, close enough to whisper in her ear, ignoring the growing terror in her eyes, the quick and ragged breaths. The words and questions spilled out of his mouth without thought, they came so naturally, "How did it feel when they violated you? Was it painful? I rather hope so. Or maybe you enjoyed it in some sick way. Was it your first time? I don't even know if you have a husband. Maybe you spread your legs for Fudge in order to get your esteemed position in the Ministry. How did it feel, Umbridge, to be split wide open by every single filthy half-breed Centaur in that herd and have them pour their seed into you? Maybe when I'm finished with you, I'll return you to them."

The terrified response was barely audible. "Go to hell."

Harry only smiled back. "We're already there. But now the time has come; you refused to cooperate, so now I will get my information the hard way."

Umbridge's eyes flared with a sudden frantic gleam. "W-wait! Please no! I'll tell you anything you want, work for you inside the Ministry. Anything! Anything!"

"Too late, Umbridge. You're a liability now, and you have done too much evil in the past. Torturing children, suppressing the truth, destroying anyone in your path to power. And now you will pay for it."

"But you can't do this." Tears were now flowing freely down Umbridge's pudgy face. "You're Dumbledore's golden boy, The-Boy-Who-Lived."

"Times change. I can't win this war by being some kind of Scion of Light, to never do anything that isn't good." An odd thought occurred to him, which he voiced. "I must be a Harbinger of Justice and Vengeance. I must and will use any means possible to succeed. And you, Umbridge, will be my first condemned and my first tool. Congratulations."

Umbridge's pleas for mercy become more and more desperate, but Harry was deaf to her cries. He raised his hand, and unleashed the Evil Presence into Umbridge, the room filling with the echoes of her screams once more. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination, but Harry thought he could literally feel Umbridge's soul in his hands. Baring his teeth, he drove his will into it, fueling every blow with another memory. Umbridge calling him a liar. UmbridgeUmbridge forcing him to carve lines into his own hand. Umbridge trying to dose him with Veritaserum. He didn't notice the screams peter out as Umbridge muttered, "Command me, Lord," enthralled as he was with the memories. Dumbledore forced to flee before the persecution of Fudge and Umbridge. Hagrid and McGonagall attacked in the dead of the night by a cadre of Aurors and Umbridge. Hermione desperate face full of tears when Harry had been threatened with torture by Umbridge. Nothing existed for Harry but the burning desire to destroy the writched thing so that it would never harm anyone again.

Wihtout warning, Harry felt a hand yank his arm back. The Evil Presence broke, and Umbridge's body went limp, though still breathing. Incense, Harry followed the momentum of his arm, the back of his fist colliding viciously with something, sending it flying backwards. As it collapsed on the ground, Harry's sense slowly returned.

A petite figure.

Blonde hair.

"…Luna?"

Painfully, he watched Luna struggle to her feet. Before he could so much as stammer out an apology, she had darted out of the room. He heard a sob as she rounded the corner. Stunned, Harry collaped to his knees, his temper fleeing him instantly. "What have I done?"

"Almost killed our informant, that's what." Harry wasn't even startled by Gnarl's sudden appearance at his side. The old Minion almost looked disappointed or aggravated. "Mistress Luna became worried by your rather potent outburst of anger and came to check in on you. When you refused to answer he ror release your grip on the toad woman, she decided to force you to do so. Not the best idea, in my experience, to interrupt an Overlord, but I suppose it was effective nonetheless."

A moment of silence passed between the two, until Harry had gathered his thoughts. "Gnarl, I want you to pump Umbridge for information. Anything she knows about the Ministry, Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and other magical communities throughout the world. No need to torture her now, right?"

"Quite, m'Lord. The toad is now your thrall, and will bow to your every whim. I assume you'll be in your Quarters?"

Harry nodded as he stood. "I have to apologize to Luna. To fix this. I trust you, Gnarl."

Ignoring Gnarl's huffed line about how trust had been the downfall of some Overlord or another, and made his way to the door slowly. Even as he thought of how to approach Luna after what had happened, his thoughts couldn't help but stray toward his bushy-haired friend that had come up during his session with Umbridge.

_What would Hermione think of me now?_

* * *

Hermione Granger sneezed.

"Bless you."

She sniffed, turning toward the voice. "Thanks, Dean." She finished erecting the wards, as Dean did the same with the tent. A beam of light broke through the canopy of the forest, splashing on Hermione's face, and she covered her eyes.

Hermione had gone on the run not long after the wedding. She had hoped to seek refuge with the Weasleys, but when the reports of violence against Muggleborns – death and worse – kept increasing with the Ministry nothing but a puppet and the Aurors powerless to act, she knew that it was only a matter of time. With the Weasleys being put under observation, she would've been an easy target. So she had fled in the middle of the night, leaving them behind. Even Ron.

Dean looked up from his work, smiling at Hermione and waving her over. She had run across him a few days past, and since then they had been travelling together. His mother was a Muggle and his father had died early on, so he had no way of knowing whether he was Half-Blood or not. They both agreed it was like to matter little either way. Regardless, there was safety in numbers. All they could do was keep moving and keep safe.

And yet… Hermione could never stop thinking about Harry, even as she ran for her life. She could've run away, could have easily blended into the Muggle world and escaped across to the rest of Europe. But she stayed, because she knew Harry was still out there somewhere. Looking for the Horcruxes, all alone. Even if she wasn't physically with him, she couldn't abandon him, not when she might encounter him as she had Dean.

A light touch on her shoulder brought Hermione out of her reverie. "You alright, Hermione? You wandered off for a bit."

"I'm fine, Dean, thanks." A pause, as they both looked out into the forest, always alert for any signs of others. "Just thinking about Harry."

Dean's hand squeezed her slightly, a gesture of support. "He'll save us, don't worry. He's Harry. He's saved everyone at least once a year. Though I imagine he'll have a bit harder time without his genius friend." They shared a light chuckle. Though the two of them never let go of their tension, any respite was always welcome. Dean turned back toward the tent, leaving Hermione to her thoughts.

Then one of them hit her rather strongly.

Should she? Harry had said Dumbledore wanted the information kept a secret from as many people as possible, lest it fall in the wrong hands. But what point was there in keeping a secret when knowing it could help save the world? No, she had to tell him. Otherwise, they would be doing worse than nothing.

Dean looked up with a questioning look in his eyes as Hermione threw open the tent flap. "Have you ever heard of Horcruxes, Dean?"

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading that scene as much as I did writing it. Harry is slowly walking away from the Light. There's still plenty of growing, though, so don't think he's going Evil just yet. For those of you who did get the Flumpawumps reference, well done. If you didn't there is a story on this site - a Luna/Harry fic - called "Evacuation of the Flumpawumps." It's just a silly little smut fic, but enjoyable all the same. Til next time, dear readers. Show me your love with reviews!


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